Time of Dying
by beckstar05
Summary: How could one case change so much? Shawn now has to deal with the guilt and pain that comes from losing the person that was closest to him.  includes: Shules moments and Shawn whump!  emotional and physical
1. Chapter 1

This is my first attempt at a mutli-chapter story as well as a Psych story.

I wrote this story as a birthday present to my roommate.

**Disclaimer: **It saddens my to say but I do not own Psych or any of its characters/actors.

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter One**

He couldn't believe it. Whether his brain was incapable or unwilling, it would not process the fact that his best friend was dead. The evidence was staring him in the face as the dull and lifeless eyes of his friend bore into his soul but he refused to accept it. Yet there Shawn Spencer was, cradling the body of his lifelong comrade as the blood of Gus continued to pool around them.

It was only the sadistic laugh that Shawn heard that brought him out of the fog that his mind had created. He looked around trying to locate the source of the sound. It took but a few moments for Shawn to spot the man standing in the shadows.

The man stepped out from the corner of the room. Shawn racked his brain trying to figure out who this man was but to no avail. He couldn't remember ever seeing this man before. The man was tall and muscular and wore and impeccably tailored suit. Shawn could see the gun he had tucked into his pants but the thing that scared the psychic the most was the smile that adorned the man's face. It was a smile that sent shudders down Shawn's spine as he could see that the man enjoyed the emotional pain that Shawn was suffering. The smile reached the madman's eyes and he could tell that man truly enjoyed killing the psychic's best friend.

"I'm delighted that we finally have the chance to meet Mr. Spencer. I am glad you received my invitation and decided to join me" the mystery man said.

Shawn's mind couldn't form words and thus he sat, still holding the body of his friend, as the man approached him. He was confused as to what this guy was talking about. An invitation? He certainly hadn't gotten one of those and if he had he sure as hell wouldn't have brought Gus with him. _Gus_ he thought as a pang of sharp pain hit him and caused the ache in his heart to grow.

"I'm sorry to have had to kill your friend," he lied "but I needed you alone. The games we are going to play are really only meant for two and since both you and I are here there really wasn't any use for Mr. Guster."

'Wasn't a use for Gus? How could he say that? Gus was his best friend, his confidant, his brother. Gus was the person who Shawn went to for advice. Gus was the person he could rely on when he was having problems with his father or was worried about his relationship with Juliet. Gus was the most important person in his life and this man had killed him because he wasn't _useful_. What the Hell!' Shawn thought.

The man noticed the emotions that washed over Shawn's face.

"You seem to be confused and angry. I can understand the anger, I did kill your friend after all but you will get over it in time. If anything I did you a favor. Friends only slow you down and prevent you from reaching the top. They are simply of no use. For the confusion I'm not sure why you would feel that way. I all but left you breadcrumbs to find me. I wanted to be able to see the great psychic Shawn Spencer for myself. I wanted to meet the man that has made my life difficult for the last few months. I wanted to be able to look into your eyes as I killed you" his words becoming more and more menacing as he spoke.

The man's eyes darted over to the table that was sitting on the side of the otherwise empty room. The table was covered with a sheet but Shawn was sure he didn't want to know what was under the covering. Once again, a smile crossed the madman's face as he noticed the fear in the psychic's eyes and walked over to the table, removed the sheet, and revealed to Shawn the objects that lay on top. Shawn's eyes widened as he saw the wide array of knives that were carefully laid out and sure to be capable of delivering a great deal of pain.

Still confused Shawn managed to mumble out, "Who are you?" as he gazed up at the man.

"I'm disappointed. I thought you would have figured it out already. My name is Michael Macconi."

Shawn had heard that name before he just couldn't remember from where. He looked at the man before him. It wasn't until he focused on the man's steely blue eyes that he remembered where he had heard the name.

"You're the head of the Macconi drug cartel. You guys supply most of the drugs up and down the coast of southern California" Shawn remembered.

"Well we did until you came along Mr. Spencer and got one of my top guys locked up for murder" Macconi growled out.

That's where Shawn remembered the name from. He had heard it when Gus had read out loud an article in the newspaper. The article was about the death of Dante DiNardo, a big time drug dealer in the area. Later that same morning Shawn and Gus were hired as consultants on that case.

"You claimed that the spirit of the DiNardo's car led you to Anthony Russo, my second in command. With him in jail I have been unable to control my 'employees' and my business has dropped considerably as they squabbled trying to fill the now vacant position" Macconi sneered.

"I don't like when business is slow and since it is your fault Mr. Spencer, I thought I would share with you my displeasure" he shared as he ran his hands over the different knives adorning the table.

Shawn knew he should be afraid or even terrified of what Macconi just said to him but he couldn't bring himself to. All he could think of was the body in his lap. The body he refused to let go of even as Macconi had come closer and closer. He had failed his friend. He hadn't noticed the man that lurked in the shadows. For a man who centered his life on being observant he had missed a crucial piece of information and Gus had paid the price. For that he deserved everything that he had coming to him. He deserved to be the subject of whatever Macconi had up his sleeve. Whatever physical torture he had in store for him would never be enough punishment. He had failed his friend and therefore deserved all the pain the Macconi could dream up.

By this point Macconi was a mere feet from Shawn and Gus. He removed that gun from his waist, raised it, and Shawn's world went black.

**Up Next**: What happened to Shawn? Will Juliet and Lassiter get there in time?

* * *

So this chapter and the next one are on the short side, but I promise they will be getting much longer as time goes on.

At this point I have about half of this story written and the rest of it planned. I am aiming to update every Sunday. Please review and let me know what you think, even if you want to do it anonymously.


	2. Chapter 2

OK so I thought it was only fair, since this chapter is so short, that I update today as well as my scheduled day of tomorrow.

Hope you enjoy! And please remember to review (they make me happy and want to write more)

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Psych :(

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Two**

His head felt as though it weighed fifty pounds and the fog that clouded his mind was dark and dense. Shawn searched his brain for the reason he was in this state. It was all too soon that the memories of Gus' death came flooding back to him. The ache in his heart threatened to tear him apart. The only hope that he held was that he was now dead. He couldn't climb out of the fog that had come to rest inside of his head, but he questioned if he even wanted to.

It would have been so easy to just stay in the darkness but he didn't deserve to die that quickly. He had failed his friend and therefore deserved pain. The release that Macconi had given him had been too fast. He deserved to be punished for his failure but Macconi had merely killed him at first chance after he finished his conversation with Shawn.

But if he was dead what was he feeling? Shawn could feel something or someone shoving on his shoulder. He could feel hands caressing his cheek. And if he listened really hard he could hear someone saying his name, pleading for him to wake up. The voice wanted him to – no, insisted that he – leave the blackness that he was in.

No! If he could hear and feel then he wasn't dead, was he? He couldn't be alive. He didn't deserve to be alive. Shawn couldn't live in a world without Gus. He refused to let himself give into the voices he was hearing. He wouldn't wake up. He wouldn't go back to a life without his best friend, he just wouldn't.

Shawn cursed himself as his body began to betray him. The fog continued to decrease and the voices and touches came with more clarity. He could now make out the voice of Juliet as she continued her plea. Shawn could hear as her voice hitched and he could practically make out the tears, she was obviously shedding, in her voice. As much as he loved Juliet, Shawn wished she would just leave him alone.

As the fog lifted pain began to spread across his head and seep into his skull. With this new pain he couldn't help himself as he slowly opened his eyes to confront the source. As his eyes slowly opened he struggled to make out the shapes in front of him. In agonizing slowness his eyes focused and he was able to discern the features that made up Juliet. He could now make out her blonde hair which was pulled back into a bun and the sad smile she wore as she looked down at him. Shawn gazed up at her and reached out slowly to gently wipe the tears that were flowing freely down her cheeks.

Juliet had been terrified when she and Lassiter had entered the abandoned warehouse to find Shawn and Gus laying on the ground, in a pool of blood, with one of Santa Barbara's most notorious criminals standing overtop of them. When Lassiter had identified himself and Macconi had refused to stand down, Juliet didn't blink twice before pulling the trigger and dropping Macconi where he stood.

While Lassiter ran to the mobster to make sure he was no longer a threat, she hastily made her way over to the two downed men. She had been beyond relieved when she found out that the man she loved was only knocked unconscious as a result from getting hit on the head. Yet her relief quickly faded when she looked over at Gus and noticed his lifeless eyes. She held her gaze with the glassy eyes of her friend before continuing her search down his body until she noticed two bullet holes directly where his once beating heart was.

"Aw Shawn" was all that Juliet could make out. It wasn't much but it was quite possibly the best sound that Shawn had ever heard as it helped dissipate some of the pain he was feeling. She grasped the hand that Shawn had left on her cheek after capturing some of her tears and squeezed it.

With that gesture of comfort and reassurance Shawn let his eyes wander to his left where he knew the body of his best friend lay. He noticed right away that either he or Gus had been moved and that somebody had had the courtesy to close his friend's eyes. If Shawn hadn't known better he could've believed that Gus had just been sleeping. But Shawn did know better and if he hadn't the blood that surrounded Gus and the blood that he was laying in was a clear give-away to the fact that his friend was dead and not sleeping.

Head Detective Lassiter was crouching next to Gus and taking notes in the notepad he carried everywhere with him. Shawn didn't understand how Lassiter could be so callous. Sure Gus wasn't a friend of Lassiter's and the detective didn't necessarily appreciate it when Shawn and Gus were hired as consultants, but Lassiter and Gus saw and interacted with each other on a nearly daily basis. It was mind blowing that the detective could go about his job as though the dead body belonged to a stranger rather than a man that he had known.

As Lassiter went to touch him with a gloved hand Shawn couldn't contain himself anymore.

"Don't touch him. Don't you dare touch him!" Shawn screamed out. "He's not just some victim! He's my friend. He's _our _friend. How can you … how can you?" he stammered.

"Gus" was all that his mind could manage.

He could feel the tears build up behind his eyes and made no effort to damp them down as he allowed them to fall. Shawn scrambled to his feet and made to move toward the detective and his fallen friend. His efforts were thwarted as he quickly became lightheaded and the blackness threatened to consume him once again.

Shawn didn't fight the descending fog. He could feel himself losing touch with reality as his body crashed back to the ground. He could faintly hear the sound of sirens as he lost himself in the all consuming blackness.

The blackness was safe. It was a place where he didn't have to worry about people seeing his guilt and maybe if he hid there long enough he wouldn't have to explain how he got his best friend killed.

**Up Next: **Why were Shawn and Gus in the warehouse? Will Shawn be ok?

* * *

Please review. Thanks!

I will be posting the next, much longer, chapter tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Three**

Once again the fog began to lift and Shawn could feel himself slowly awake. He could hear steady beeps from a heart monitor and smell the harsh odor of antiseptic. He didn't need psychic powers to determine that he had ended up in a hospital.

As he opened his eyes he was greeted with extreme brightness from the fluorescent light that was directly above his bed. Shawn looked over and was unsurprised to see the eyes of Juliet peering down at him. She smiled at him trying to convey a positive feeling yet her smile was unable to reach her eyes and when Shawn truly looked into them he could see the sadness that her eyes were unable to hide.

Shawn attempted to speak but he found that he couldn't get any words to come out. His throat felt raw and his mouth was extremely dry. Juliet noticed his attempt and ultimate failure at speech and grabbed the cup of ice chips that the nurse had left on the bedside table a few minutes ago. After allowing a few of the melting ice chips to sooth his throat Shawn once again attempted to talk.

"Fancy meeting you here Jules," Shawn attempted at humor.

"Shawn, how are you feeling?" Juliet asked refusing to believe her boyfriend's lame attempt.

Shawn quickly dropped his false bravado when he replied in barely a whisper, "my head's killing me and my best friend is dead. How the hell do you think I'm feeling?"

With that question, the tears that Juliet had tried so hard to prevent started to fall. Her sobs were quiet but that made them all the more devastating as Shawn's spirit fell further then he thought even possible.

'Great fucking going Shawn!' he thought. 'Get your friend killed and then can't even manage to comfort your girlfriend.'

Without any help from Shawn, Juliet collected herself and cleared her throat before attempting to speak once again.

"Shawn I know that you just woke up and everything but we need to get your statement about what happened." Juliet said in a comforting voice. "Lassiter thought it might be best if I was the one to take your statement but he's right outside if you would rather do this with him."

"No. Please no Lassiter." Shawn replied quietly but hastily.

"But do you think my dad could sit with me while we go over this?" he asked. Then after thinking for a moment, "Has anyone even told him what happened? He was like a second dad to Gus. Oh God, Gus' parents. Has anyone told the Gusters?" Shawn rambled, breathing heavily, and eyes darting around the room manically.

"Yes on all accounts" was Juliet's response. "Let me go get your dad and then we can begin."

As Juliet went to collect his father, Shawn used the time to compose himself. He might allow himself to feel the guilt and misery that Gus' death brought but he wouldn't allow his pain to effect anyone else he cared about. He had already caused the demise of one friend he couldn't bring himself to do it to anybody else ho loved. No. He would suck it up and show nobody else his pain.

Juliet returned just a few minutes later with Henry Spencer in tow. For a split second the elder Spencer stood at the door unsure of what to do but as quickly as he made up his mind he was at his son's bedside with a protective grip on the younger man's shoulder. Henry gazed down at his son and was shocked at what he saw. He was unable to see any of the life or happiness that his son's face usually held. Rather all he was able to detect was coldness. Shawn's eyes were dull and there wasn't a hint of a smile anywhere to be seen. The sight before him made Henry's heart drop. In that instant it all became real. Gus was dead and his son's spirit was irrevocably changed.

"Ok Shawn if you're ready start at the beginning."

With a sigh of resignation Shawn began his story.

_**24 Hours Earlier**_

There was a knock at the door and when Gus looked up he was greeted with the sight of Mrs. Simpson, the office secretary.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you Mr. Guster but I just got off the phone with a Dr. Donald Westphall" Mrs. Simpson said.

"Who?" Gus asked in confusion. "I don't recall a Dr. Westphall on my rotation. Is he a new client?"

"No, no he isn't a client. Dr. Westphall said he was your veterinarian" the secretary replied in equal confusion. "If he isn't I can just call back and tell him he had the wrong number."

'_SHAWN_!' Gus thought. Only his friend would call him at the office in the middle of the day, while he was at work, pretending to be a veterinarian. Sometimes he wondered why he even gave Shawn his office number. Of course knowing his friend he knew that Shawn would have found someway to disrupt his day and at least this way he wasn't actually showing up at the office.

"Oh no sorry I forgot. My usual vet, Dr. Hamilton, is on vacation and Dr. Westphall is filling in until he gets back" Gus covered. Spending time with Shawn certainly had increased his ability to come up with lies on the fly. "What did Dr. Westphall need?"

Mrs. Simpson's face of utter confusion quickly turned into one of absolute glee. "Well, you're neighbor, Mr. Mark Craig, brought in Mrs. Pickles,"

'_again_ with the fake cat' Gus thought.

"and apparently she's gone into labor" Mrs. Simpson continued, oblivious to the eye roll Gus offered at the name of the imaginary feline. "Congratulations you're going to be a new granddaddy!"

Gus shrugged and began to continue with his work. He had a lot of paperwork to do and couldn't allow Shawn to interrupt his work day.

Perplexed, Mrs. Simpson asked, "Aren't you going to go down to the vet's office? Mrs. Pickles needs you. Labor is a very intense and scary process and she's going to need the support of her owner to get through it."

"No, I'm sure she'll be fine. She is one tough putty tat" Gus responded with a smirk as he said the last few words in his best tweety bird impression.

At this point Mrs. Simpson looked completely shocked. "Oh no this won't do!" she exclaimed. "Nope, you need to get down there. I am going to cancel the rest of your appointments today and tell the boss that you had a family emergency and that you had to leave."

The secretary bustled out of his office before Gus had the chance to stop her. '_How could somebody get so worked up over a cat_?' Gus mused. With his appointments cancelled and his boss alerted Gus had no other option than to pack up and head out of the office. There wasn't any use in staying now that he had no clients to attend to that afternoon.

When Gus reached the parking lot he quickly noticed his friend sitting on his the hood of his car with a, no-doubtedly pineapple flavored, smoothie in his hand.

"Hey old buddy! Watcha up to today?" Shawn asked as he plastered his best "innocent" smile on his face.

"Oh I don't know Shawn. Maybe I'll head down to the vet seeing as my fake cat with the stupid name is having kittens at this very minute" Gus snapped back sarcastically.

"Don't be a snail on a hot sidewalk Gus! I found a lead on our case and I needed my trusty partner to go check it out with me" Shawn countered. "I got you a smoothie…" Shawn announced holding out the smoothie as if it completely fixed the problem. "C'mon Gus, what about if I need the SuperSmeller? I need you out there buddy!" Shawn pleaded.

Deciding that he had guilted his friend enough, Gus grabbed the smoothie and let him of the hook, "you know that's right!"

"To the Blueberry then!" Shawn exclaimed as he jumped of the hood of the car and made his way quickly to the passenger side door.

_**8 Hours Later**_

"You called me out of work to sit outside of an abandoned warehouse?" Gus asked begrudgingly.

"It's called a stakeout Gus. Any good detective has to do a stakeout once in a while" Shawn defended. "Don't look so dour Guster. I brought snacks, music, and some literature to keep us occupied."

The snacks turned out to be a half-eaten bag of pretzels, Twizzlers, and a can of pineapple tidbits. The music was a complete compilation of Tears for Fears and the literature was a collection of Teen Beat magazines. All in all, Shawn's choices left something to be desired.

"What does this even have to do with our murder case Shawn?"

Two weeks ago he and Shawn had been waiting around the SBPD headquarters hoping to catch Chief Vick to get her to sign off on their latest consultant paycheck. Shawn had been busy telling him about the reunion special E! was planning on having for the cast of "21 Jump Street" or some other 80's TV show, Gus wasn't really paying attention, when Lassiter and Juliet came back from a case they had been investigating. Lassiter looked beyond frustrated and of course Shawn took that as his signal to poke his nose into their case.

Needless to say Lassiter wanted them nowhere near their investigation and quickly shooed Shawn away. All they were able to find out was that a woman by the name of Julia Mason was found dead in her apartment. Apparently she had been strangled and her best friend had found her in her bathtub after her friend hadn't seen her over a period of a few days. Regardless to what Lassiter said Shawn had taken it upon himself, and Gus, to investigate. They had spent two weeks snooping through the life of the victim in the search of the killer but had come up with nothing.

"I thought you'd never ask! So today I went back to check out the crime scene."

"You mean broke into…" Gus clarified.

"I've heard it both ways. Anyway I _visited_ the crime scene today. I was going through Mason's apartment and you'll never guess what I found." When Gus refused to respond Shawn continued, "well I was looking at her pictures and I noticed that there was a man standing in the background of each one. Like almost every single one! How could've I missed that? Well after I noticed that I was thumbing through her highschool yearbook for purely research purposes and I ran across the same guy."

At this Gus was actually amazed. It had been two weeks and this was their first semblance of a lead.

"So the guy's name is Jeffrey Donovan."

After a few minutes of waiting for Shawn to continue and receiving no new information Gus brought up what he thought to be a logical question, "and we are waiting outside this abandoned warehouse, why?"

"Oh yeah, Donovan owns this warehouse. It was the only property I could find that was listed under his name. So I figure we wait here until he shows up."

"How did you manage to find out that this was his warehouse?"

"I might have borrowed Lassieface's computer when in a meeting with Chief Vick." When he noticed Gus' look of disapproval he quickly added, "well if he didn't want people on his computer than he shouldn't have made his password so easy. I mean who couldn't guess that Lassie would use 'Glock' as his password. I think that man cares more for his gun than he would his own child."

With that they settled back into waiting. It only took about thirty minutes longer for a car to pull up outside of the warehouse. The warehouse offered no lights so it was impossible to tell what type of car the man had driven up in let alone the license plate of the vehicle. Furthermore they weren't able to tell who exactly it was that had exited the car. They couldn't tell if the man was actually who they had sat there for eight or so hours waiting for or somebody else.

"C'mon Gus. Let's follow him and see what he's doing."

"You gotta be out your damn mind Shawn if you think I am following some guy that probably killed lady into a creepy abandoned warehouse! Have you ever seen any scary movie? You don't follow the bad guy into a place where nobody would be able to hear your screams."

"You've got no sense of adventure Gus" Shawn said before getting out of the car and making his way toward the warehouse.

Gus sighed, pulled out his phone, placed a quick phone call leaving a message for Juliet when she didn't answer telling her what they were doing, and reluctantly, and against his better judgment, followed after his friend.

By the time he caught up to Shawn, his friend had reached the entry way to the warehouse. Shawn started making shapes with his hands like the cops do in the movies to signal plans but when he began to make butterflies and wolves using his hands Gus had had enough and slapped him. Giving up with the hand signals, Shawn entered and began to move slowly through the first cavernous room. The warehouse was truly abandoned. There wasn't anything there. After finding nothing of interest in the first room they moved on to the second room which was once again empty. This is how it went for the third, fourth, and fifth room as well.

Shawn insisted that before they enter each room that they had to stand at the door of the next room like cops. That included both of them standing with their hands clasped forming imaginary guns and counting down using fingers before they could enter. Obviously Shawn had watched the Magnum PI marathon that was on TV the other day. Gus wondered if Shawn would require them to wear fake mustaches to match Tom Selleck next time they went to a crime scene. With that thought Gus rolled his eyes but continued to follow his partner. To tell the truth, Gus was just hoping that there weren't any dead bodies in the warehouse. He hated dead bodies and as much as he tried to hide it from Shawn, bodies still made him want to vomit and on occasion his body had revolted and he had lost his lunch. 'Yeah I hope there aren't any dead bodies' Gus thought.

When they got to the sixth room Shawn slowly opened the door which emitted a small squeak as he did so. This room was different in that it wasn't completely empty. Rather there was a table sitting off to the side of the room with a sheet overtop it. Shawn and Gus moved over to investigate but only made it a few steps when two loud bangs echoed through the room.

Shawn screeched and dropped down to the ground for cover. When there was no more sound the psychic moved to get up. On his feet Shawn looked over and noticed that his friend was still on the ground. He moved over to Gus to tell him that it was ok and that they could continue their investigation. He made it to within a few feet of Gus when he realized that his friend wasn't ducking for cover. Shawn ran the last few feet and dropped down to his knees. There was already a big puddle of blood surrounding Gus when he pulled him into his lap.

"Gus, c'mon buddy you got to get up. We have to get out of here!" Shawn hysterically said to his friend. He put his hands over the source of the bleeding, a hole in the middle of Gus' chest and tried frantically to staunch the bleeding. "Gus please don't do this to me. Please don't leave me here alone. You have to wake up." The psychic said as he tried shaking his friend awake. When he saw that all of his efforts were not working his voice dropped to a whisper, "Gus please. Please. I'm so sorry. Just please come back. I don't know what to do without my best friend. I'm so sorry this is all my fault."

Shawn looked into the eyes of Gus and when he saw how lifeless and dull they were he realized there was no saving his friend. His best friend was gone forever. With that last thought, Shawn's mind began to shut down. He just sat there holding the body of his dead friend refusing to accept the fact that he would never talk to him again.

Shawn had told the entire story with his eyes downcast and his fingers fiddling with the edge of his blanket. He had not once looked at his girlfriend or his father and therefore had not noticed that Juliet had once again begun to cry or that his father's eyes had become overly bright with tears he would never allow anyone to see.

When Shawn finally did manage to look up, Henry had managed to rub his eyes and while they were slightly red they no longer held any unshed tears. Juliet had managed to quell her crying and clicked off the digital recorder that she had been using to document all of the details of Shawn's story.

"I'm tired" were the next words to come out of Shawn's mouth. "Do you think you guys could just leave me alone for a while so I can go back to sleep?"

"Sure" was the collective answer. Before they left Henry gave his son the most caring pat on the shoulder that he could manage and Juliet leaned in and placed a soft kiss onto Shawn's forehead. And with that the two left the hospital room. All alone once again Shawn began to quietly cry and continued to do so until he eventually fell back asleep.

* * *

So I was kind of sad that the last chapter got ZERO reviews. I realize that I only posted it yesterday but it still is upsetting.

I hope that a flashback with some happy Shawn and Gus moments, rather than just depressed Shawn, will elicit some reviews.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Til next Sunday... (unless I could be persuaded with reviews to update earlier) Ok, I'm done begging. Bye.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Shawn awoke to the sounds of a person shuffling around his room. He kept his eyes closed and wondered if there was any point in pretending that he was still asleep. Just as the psychic had come to the decision to feign sleep he heard a man's voice,

"Ah, Mr. Spencer. You can pretend to be asleep all you want but I can tell you are awake and listening to me."

Being called out on his rouse he opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of a tall man wearing a white coat. The man, obviously a doctor, had hazel eyes that seemed kind and sported stubble that was barely more than a 5 o'clock shadow. When the doctor noticed that his patient had opened his eyes he pointed his finger toward the heart monitor.

"You might be able to fool people with your amazing acting skills but even those won't fool the heart monitor. I could tell as soon as you had awoken," he said. Shawn gave a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders.

The doctor continued, "My name is Dr. Roberts and I will be your doctor for about 3 more hours."

Noticing the confused the look that Shawn was now giving him Dr. Roberts explained, "While you will have a nasty bump on your head and probably a pretty bad headache for the next few days there really isn't anything we can do here that you can't do at home. Don't worry though, you only had a mild concussion and your father promised to look after you if I let you go home."

Hearing that his father was going to be the one looking after him, Shawn mumbled under his breath, "I'd rather walk over hot coals barefooted while listening to the 'Macarena' on repeat and…"

"Hmmm, what was that?" Dr. Roberts interrupted.

"Oh nothing. So I get to leave soon?" Shawn replied.

"Yup. We'll do a final examination and then you get the fun job of completing a stack load of paperwork. After that's done you're free to go. I have to go check on a few other patients real quick but I'll be back in about an hour and we'll get your examination done," Dr. Roberts said as he patted Shawn on the shoulder. "I saw your father out in the waiting room. I'll send him on in on my way out."

The doctor left the room before Shawn even had a chance to ask him not to send his father in. He would much rather spend his last few hours in the hospital alone. Now he would have to spend them sitting awkwardly with his dad as Henry tried his best to comfort his son even though they both knew he was terrible at those kinds of things.

Shawn turned his head away from the entryway and closed his eyes. Maybe he could try pretending to be sleeping again as long as he could keep his heart rate steady. However, before he calmed himself completely he heard a knock at the door. He turned his eyes and saw his father standing there with a bag in his hands.

"Hey Shawn," his father started but then faltered. Henry couldn't understand why talking to his son was proving to be so difficult. He had just spent the past few hours sitting in a hard plastic chair in the waiting room thinking about his boy. He thought about all the times he had let his son down, when he wouldn't let the boy play because they had to train or all the times when he should have let his son know how much he truly cared. Henry thought about all the ways he was going to make it up to Shawn because this last situation had been terrifying for the father who usually prided himself on his stoicism and ability to tackle any situation. Sure Shawn had been in sticky situations before and had definitely gotten hurt before but this last time – this last time – had been so much worse. The danger that Shawn continually put himself became all too real when Henry learned that Gus, a son to him in all but blood, had been killed.

Henry took a deep breath and sighed. He would not let his son down again. He would do whatever it took to keep Shawn safe. If that meant keeping him as far away from the Santa Barbara Police Department, a place where he had wanted Shawn to be his entire life, and Psych he would do it.

After another steadying breath, he took a step into Shawn's hospital room. He slowly approached his son's bedside and took a seat in the chair that Juliet had placed next to the bed when she had been in there earlier.

Shawn made no attempt to talk to his dad and instead kept himself busy by tugging at a stitch that had begun to come loose on his hospital sheets. He refused to even look up at his father even though he heard the older man shift uncomfortably around in his seat.

Sensing that his son wasn't going to be the one starting any conversation, Henry cleared his throat, "I brought you some clothes to wear home," he said raising the duffel bag he had been holding. "I figured you would need some new clothes seeing as the other ones were covered in…"

Shawn's eyes shot up and Henry quickly closed his mouth as he realized what he was about to say.

Of course Shawn didn't need him to finish in order to know what his father was thinking. 'I can't wear my other clothes home because they're covered in Gus' blood.' Shawn thought. 'Juliet and Lassiter have probably already bagged and tagged them and then sent them to the evidence lab so they can be processed.'

With that slip up Henry decided to just keep his mouth shut and not say anything else. He could see the pain clearly written on his son's face and it hadn't been there when he first came in the room. Henry hated knowing that he had caused the pain that his son now felt because he was incapable of thinking before he spoke. It was so much easier when a situation called for a lecture of some sorts but comforting words… hell they were something that Henry could barely even think let alone express. Therefore, he decided it best to just sit and wait until Shawn felt the need to talk to him. Henry would just sit and observe and jump in when needed. He could manage that.

That is how Dr. Roberts found the two Spencers when he returned from making his rounds about 40 minutes later. Henry was staring at his son silently as the younger man kept his eyes downcast looking at the plain white sheets as though they were the most interesting thing in the world. The doctor shook his head at the sight and stepped quietly into the room.

"Ok Mr. Spencer," he stopped when the elder Spencer looked at him rather than the younger one. "Uh, I meant Mr. Shawn Spencer. Let's just go with Shawn if you don't mind?" the doctor asked the psychic.

When Dr. Roberts received no answer he continued, "Ok Shawn I'm just going to do some simple tests and then tell you about what you need to do when you go home."

He stepped up to Shawn's bedside and raised it up so that the younger man was sitting almost straight up. "Shawn I'm going to check your pupils real quick so I need you to look at me." When his patient didn't respond after a few moments he placed his hands under Shawn's chin and gently lifted until his patient was looking directly at him. "Ok good." The doctor took out his pen light and shone it into the psychic's left eye. Satisfied he quickly moved over to the right eye before his patient could fight him over it.

"Well your pupils are equal and reactive which is very good."

Shawn quickly looked back down at his lap refusing to help his doctor access him in anyway.

"You know this would be a lot easier and quicker if you would help me out here Shawn." Dr. Roberts admonished as gently as he could. He wasn't nearly as insensitive as he must have seemed to the Spencers. He could see that his patient was clearly in emotional turmoil even though he wasn't privy as to the cause of the pain. The doctor realized that the only way Shawn would ever heal though was to get out of the hospital and get home. The only way that was happening though was if Shawn would start to cooperate fully so he could discharge him without any worries about something still being wrong with his patient.

Finally Shawn realized that Dr. Roberts was trying to help and looked directly up at his doctor and replied, "Sorry. What else can I do to help?" While his reply was perhaps a little snappy it lacked any hint of sarcasm and that was good enough for the doctor.

"Ok I just need to know if you're currently experiencing any pain or if your head seems at all 'fuzzy'."

Shawn replied, "I have a slight headache but it isn't worse than anything I've had before and my head was a little 'fuzzy' before when I first woke up but now it's completely clear."

With a kind smile Dr. Roberts said, "That's good Shawn, really good. I think we can start the process to get you out of here. Just a few things to consider though; when you get home I want you to get lots of rest and I want you to tell your dad if your head starts to hurt any worse than it does now. Got it?"

"Crystal Doc," Shawn said with a small smile.

"Good. I'll go get a nurse to bring you the discharge papers and you'll be on your way."

The doctor shook the hands of both men and made his way out of the room. On his way out he stole a quick glance back at his patient. He knew that his patient's physical injuries would heal much more quickly than would his emotional ones. He just hoped that the elder Spencer and Shawn's friends could help the young man overcome what ever caused the emotional turmoil.

**OoOoO**

After completing the discharge papers and once again going through the homecare procedures with the nurse, Shawn was left to get dressed so his dad could take him home. He made his way to the bathroom and closed the door for some privacy. He quickly changed into the shirt and jeans that his father brought for him.

Shawn looked over to the mirror and for the first time saw the huge bruise that had been left at the top of his head where Macconi's gun had bashed against his skull. He touched the bump that accompanied the bruise, winced in pain, and determined that touching it probably was not the best idea. His hands made their way down to the sink and Shawn found himself grabbing on to the sides. He stared into the mirror at his reflection. However, all of the sudden Shawn was no longer looking at himself but once again into the dead eyes of his best friend. He quickly shook his head to rid himself of the image yet he wasn't fast enough as his stomach revolted at the sight. Shawn managed to make it to the toilet and retched up whatever was in his stomach, which wasn't much, as quietly possible.

He heard knock on the bathroom door and then his father's muffled voice, "Shawn are you ok? You've been in there for a long time."

Shawn pushed himself off of the tile and flushed the toiled. He responded, "Yeah dad. Almost done. Be right out."

Before he opened the door to leave he glanced back at the mirror. This time he found nothing but his own reflection.

When Shawn got out of the bathroom he noticed that an orderly had joined his father in the room and he had brought with him a wheelchair. He looked at the wheelchair and then stared at the orderly.

"Hey don't look at me it's hospital procedure. Don't worry though I'm a really good driver," the orderly said to Shawn.

Without any further protest Shawn sat down and he was quickly wheeled away with the orderly at the helm and his dad walking silently beside him.

* * *

I just wanted to thank everybody that reviewed last chapter. They all made me very happy :)

I have decided to move my updating day to Saturday since I usually do all my homework on Sundays.

Hope you enjoyed! See ya next Saturday!


	5. Chapter 5

I wanted to thank everybody that has reviewed so far that I couldn't reply to personally. So THANKS!

Standard disclaimers apply.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Five**

When Shawn was released from the hospital Henry had made it clear that his son would be doing his recuperation under his roof. While Shawn was initially reluctant to go along with this plan he quickly realized that he didn't want to spend a substantial amount of time alone. Therefore, he merely nodded his acquiescence to his father's plan and made himself at home in his room that hadn't changed at all since he was a kid.

The lack of argument that came from his son was the first indicator to Henry that his son wasn't going to be bouncing back any time soon. Henry had expected Shawn to fight tooth and nail to be allowed to go back to his apartment. Not that Henry would have allowed that but he at least expected Shawn to put up some resistance. He couldn't blame Shawn for being upset about Gus' death. The two had been friends since they were old enough to talk and in the thirty or so years since then they had become more like brothers. Hell Henry missed Gus. If Gus was a brother to Shawn then he was like a surrogate son to Henry. He wanted nothing more than to go out on his boat, drink a beer (or a few), and forget that anything else existed. But he couldn't do that. He had to be strong. He had to be there for Shawn. Henry had never seen his son this depressed before. When he looked at his son he was terrified to see the lifelessness in his eyes. He vowed that he would do whatever possible to put back the spark in Shawn's eyes.

**OoOoO**

It had been two days since Shawn had been released from the hospital. His headache had dissipated rather quickly. The only way people would have known he had been through such a tragic event is if they noticed the bruise on his temple. That was unless the person was someone that actually knew Shawn Spencer. These people would notice the bags under his eyes and if they looked into his eyes they would notice the sadness that lay there. They would notice the spark of mischief that could usually be found in the psychic's bright green eyes. Furthermore, these people would notice the anomaly that was the short monosyllabic answers Shawn would give or the fact that he refused to initiate any conversations. To the people that really knew Shawn Spencer it was evident that their charming psychic was gone and none of them knew how to bring him back.

Shawn had spent most the time since he had come from the hospital in his room. His room was familiar and safe. In it he didn't have to deal with people and thus he didn't have to see the looks of pity, or worse blame, that they tried so desperately to hide. The only times he really left his sanctuary was when his father had forced him to. These times included when it was time to eat, because Henry had flatly refused to bring Shawn's food to his room, and when Juliet came to visit.

Only a few days before it had been Shawn's favorite part of the day when he got to see his beautiful blonde girlfriend. But now Shawn didn't really have the energy to deal with Jules. He knew she hurt when she saw him so sad but he just wasn't prepared to act like nothing had happened and that he was his normal jovial self. Therefore, he tried his hardest not to have to interact with her until he could construct a mask that could hide his pain from her.

That was easier said then done when Juliet refused to give up and came over to the house as much as possible. Most of the times Shawn had pretended to be asleep but Henry had quickly caught on and dragged him out of bed. He knew that his dad was just trying to help but his insistence that Shawn try and get back to normal just led to resentment on Shawn's part.

Shawn was sitting on the edge of his bed staring at diorama of the ocean that Gus and he, well mostly Gus, had made in the second grade when he heard a knock on the door. He didn't even get a chance to yell at the invader to go away as his dad shoved his head in the door. Henry stepped into the room and then sat on the bed with his son.

Henry had seen what his son was staring at earlier, pointed to it, and said, "I remember when you two were making that. You insisted that the dolphins should have had saddles on them so people could have ridden them and that there should have been mermaids." Henry quietly chuckled at this memory. "Gus refused and told you that it was unlikely that a saddle would even stay on a dolphin without slipping off and that mermaids, of course, didn't exist." The smile that had graced Henry's face quickly fell when he thought about how his son would never be able to get into ridiculous arguments with his friend anymore.

He quickly changed the subject, "Uh, I made dinner. Juliet called earlier saying she was going to come over later tonight if that isn't a problem."

All Henry got in return was a shrug from his son. "C'mon Shawn you have to start talking to me. I know you miss Gus but you have to start talking. I get it if you don't want to talk to me but talk to somebody. You can't stay locked up in your room for the rest of your life, Gus wouldn't want that."

Shawn glared at Henry before he sneered, "Well we'll never know what Gus would want now will we. He won't ever be able to tell us because I got him killed."

Tears started to form and he tried quickly to brush them away. He wasn't quick enough and Henry noticed and placed a hand on his shoulder. Shawn shrugged off the touch that was meant to be comforting, and quietly asked, "Do you think you could just put my dinner in the fridge? I'm not that hungry right now."

"Sure kid" Henry responded. "If you need me I'll be downstairs, ok?"

Shawn nodded and Henry pushed himself off the bed. The elder Spencer made his way to the door and glanced back. He saw how overly-bright Shawn's eyes were and realized that his son wouldn't release the tears until he left. He softly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen.

Shawn only had a few minutes to compose himself before he heard a knock on the door downstairs. He heard his father answer the door and grant entrance to the visitor, who had to be Juliet. All Shawn wanted to do was hide under the covers and forget the rest of the world. He considers this option for a second but then realized that it wouldn't be fair to Jules. She hadn't done anything wrong and all she wanted to do was make sure Shawn was doing ok. With his mind made up he quietly exited his room and stood at the top of the stairs for a moment. He took a deep breath and then headed down to visit with Jules.

Juliet was disappointed but not unsurprised with Shawn's appearance when he made his way down the stairs. He was in the same sweats he had been in for the past few days and a t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days. That would have been ok but when she saw of the disarray of his hair her heart dropped. Shawn usually prided himself in his hair that looked like he had just rolled out of bed but had actually taken quite some time to do. Juliet had realized how much Shawn's hair had mattered to him when she had to wait for him to put the finishing touches on it before their first date. He had shouted from the bathroom that "perfection takes time!" Now, however, it looked like a mess. There wasn't any product in it and it looked as though he hadn't combed it all since he had gotten home.

Juliet forced a smile as Shawn reached the bottom of the stairs. She gave him a long hug, that he weakly reciprocated, and placed a kiss on his forehead. She wasn't expecting much out of this visit seeing as she hadn't got much when she had come to visit in the past few days. She just hoped that slowly he would begin to heal. Juliet took it to be a sign of progress that Shawn came down by himself this time rather then Henry having to go and get him and drag him down.

Juliet grabbed his hand and wordlessly pulled Shawn towards the couch. She sat down and was disappointed when her boyfriend chose to sit as far away from her as possible. They sat there in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before Juliet realized that Shawn would not be the one to start the conversation.

She looked squarely at Shawn and asked, "how's your head feeling today?"

She had wanted to ask how he was doing today but she already knew the answer to that question. He had to be feeling awful. His best friend had died and he blamed himself no matter how many times she or Henry had tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault.

Juliet was pleasantly surprised when Shawn actually raised his head hand looked back at her. He answered, "Fine. The bruise is almost gone and my headache is long gone."

What was this? Shawn was looking straight at her and answering in complete sentences. Juliet began to tear up with excitement. She wasn't expecting miracles but this clearly was a step in the right direction. Wasn't it?

As he did so many times before Shawn cupped her face and brushed the few tears that had managed to escape her eyes off with his thumb. She didn't know how he managed to be so caring even when he was hurting so much. Even though he was in incredible emotional pain Shawn thought of other people first. It was astounding to Juliet.

They spent the rest of Jules' visit just sitting on the couch watching the fire that Henry had started earlier in the day. By the end Juliet had curled into Shawn and he was gently stroking her head and playing with her hair. When it got to be 11 o'clock Juliet decided that it was time for her to go home seeing as she had to be up early for work the next day. Shawn walked her to the door and placed a gentle kiss on Jules' cheek.

As she was about to leave Shawn grabbed her hand, squeezed it, and said, "Thanks for coming over tonight."

Juliet smiled sweetly and left. Shawn watched out of the window as Jules made her way to her car and got in. He let out a breath as she pulled away. It was over. He could stop pretending that things were ok. He knew that he hadn't anything like his old self when Juliet was over but he had done enough pretending to make her happy and that was what he was hoping to do. Shawn knew that Jules was hurting over the loss of Gus and he knew that it would have been selfish to force his sadness on her as well. That's why he had snuggled up with her and answered her questions and even why he had grabbed her hand at the end. But now she was gone and he could go back to the safe cocoon that was his room to be alone.

He made his way back to his room and flopped unceremoniously on to his bed. Shawn didn't bother with changing into his pajamas or taking a shower. He just wanted the day to be over. It took him a while to silence his brain and finally he managed to fall asleep. His sleep, however, was less than peaceful…

_They were back in the warehouse. This time however Gus didn't die instantly. Rather he was laying with his head in Shawn's lap looking straight up at his best friend. Gus was gasping desperately for breath and blood was slowly making its way out of his mouth. His eyes were full of panic and pain._

"_Shawn this is all your fault!" Gus tried to scream. "I told you we shouldn't have come."_

"_I was trying to solve the case, Gus. Please don't be mad buddy." Shawn pleaded._

"_How couldn't I be mad! I was at work and you pulled me out even though I have told you a million times not to." Gus stated through panting breaths. "Then you brought me here and made me wait sitting in the car for like eight hours." _

_Shawn couldn't do anything but stare down as his friend rambled along angrily._

"_Then you ran off into the warehouse after I begged you to wait for back-up. I got shot because of you Shawn! I'm going to die because of you. I told you 'no, stop, wait' but no Shawn Spencer doesn't listen to anybody and look what happened! You didn't get hurt, no, I got hurt. I'm the one that's going to die not you!" Gus screamed as much as he could even though he was having a hard time breathing._

_His last words were "It's all your fault Shawn. All your fault."_

_With these words his body shuddered and his eyes closed for good. Gus was dead._

_Shawn started to cry. But then he heard the laugh that could have come from Satan himself. _

"_You know your friend is correct, right?" Macconi asked as he stepped out of the shadows. "I mean I led you here but only an idiot would have followed me without back-up." A smile formed on the man's face. "You must not have actually cared about Mr. Guster that much."_

"_I care. Gus is my best friend, obviously I care." Shawn tried to defend himself._

"_Apparently, not enough. It's because of you that he is dead. I only wanted to kill you Mr. Spencer. You were the one that brought Mr. Guster into the mix. What are you going to tell his parents when they ask how their precious son died? Are you going to tell them it was because you were careless or that you just were more concerned about solving a case than the welfare of their son?"_

"_It's our job to solve cases. I was… I was just doing our job. I didn't want Gus to get hurt. I didn't mean for him to… for him to die." Shawn stammered. He was getting frantic. What was he going to tell the Gusters? Macconi was right. Hell Gus was right. It was all his fault. He got his best friend killed. _

"_You might not have meant it Mr. Spencer but it is most definitely your fault." Macconi grinned sinisterly and stepped toward the psychic and his dead friend._

Shawn awoke with the sound of Macconi's evil laugh still in his ears. He was drenched in sweat and his whole body was trembling. He shouldn't have been surprised that he had awoken like this seeing as this had happened every night since Gus has died. However, this nightmare was worse. He had never wondered about Gus' parents before. Shawn had been too consumed with his grief and he had totally forgotten about the Gusters. So now was he not only a terrible friend but he was also a heartless bastard. How could he have forgotten about them. Sure, they had never really like Shawn and thought he was a bad influence on their Burton but it seemed as though since Shawn had cleared the elder Gusters of a murder charge things were getting better. Apparently, they should have stuck with their initial assessment of the psychic. Shawn wasn't sure if the Gusters would even want to see him but he had to go check to make sure they were ok or if they needed anything. With the plan to go visit the parents of his dead friend the next morning, Shawn lay back in his bed and tried to fall back asleep.

* * *

Hope ya liked it. Let me know what you think of the story so far and if you have any requests of things you would like me to add. If I can do it without altering the overall story too much I will gladly add in any requests.

till next Saturday...


	6. Chapter 6

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Six**

When morning came the resolve Shawn had concerning the decision he made in the middle of the night was faltering. He paced back and forth in his childhood bedroom trying to quell the panic that had crept into his mind sometime between the nightmare that awoken him the night before and the when the sun had cascaded through his window and signaled it was morning. Shawn didn't know what had caused him to start to have doubts about visiting the Gusters but now he wasn't so sure that his that his idea was the best one.

'_What am I talking about? My ideas are always the greatest!' _Shawn thought to himself. '_Well maybe not _always _the best. There was that one time when the table caught on fire when me and Gus were trying to make the best birthday cake ever by using sparklers instead of candles. Yeah, Dad loved that one. Or there was that one time when both me and Gus got grounded for a month because we decided to play cops and robbers and crashed Dad's police cruiser. I mean what was I supposed to do? Gus was a really fast runner and Dad always said you shouldn't let the suspect get away plus he left the keys right on the table. He so wanted me to take the car and catch Gus.'_

A smile had formed on Shawn's face as he thought about the trouble that he and Gus had gotten into when they were kids. His smile quickly fell, however, when he thought about all the trouble that they, no the trouble that _he, _had gotten them into as adults.

'_Hell, recently all the trouble that has come Gus' way has been my fault.' _Shawn solemnly thought._ 'It was my fault that Gus was almost fired from his job on a daily basis. It was my fault that Gus was almost killed by Yin when I ran off to find him. Heck it was even my fault that Gus was chased around by treasure hunters through the woods. Chased by treasure hunters! And oh yeah, it was my fault that Gus got killed because I dragged him out of work and forced him to follow me into a creepy, old, abandoned warehouse!'_

Shawn let out an exasperated sigh but continued on with his pacing. Every once in a while he would stop in his tracks and run his hands through his unkempt hair but soon after his feet would start moving as though if he thought he could stop thinking as long as he kept moving. But that wasn't the case. His brain refused to shut off. Just a few days ago the fact that his brain was always working would have been a good thing. His photographic memory and the observational skills his father had forced upon him allowed Shawn to solve crimes that nobody else could. He was able to walk into a crime scene and find clues that led to leads that it would have taken the police weeks to discover if they even found them at all.

Shawn used to love his ability to remember pretty much everything. Now, however, he detested it. All he seemed to be able to do lately was replay the night that Gus died. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw his friend lying in a pool of blood. He would see Gus staring back at him with a glassy expression that only the dead could achieve. Shawn knew that this would probably happen even if he didn't have a photographic memory but the fact that he did made the memories all the more vivid. No normal person would remember that Gus still had a little piece of Twizzler stuck on his neck from when Shawn had been throwing them at him in the car during their 'stakeout.' No normal person would remember that the blood that was coming from the location where the bullets had entered his chest had spread into a form that kind of looked like a turtle. Nope, no normal person would remember those things and that's what made the memories that Shawn couldn't keep at bay so much worse.

Shawn was quickly pulled out of his thoughts when he stubbed his big toe on the dresser sitting in the corner of his room. "Dammit!" Shawn howled as he hopped up and down on one foot. He crashed into his bed and fell into the tangle of blankets and pillows unceremoniously. Once the pain subsided he pushed himself up into a cross-legged sitting position and placed his head into his hands.

The suddenness of the pain in his foot seemed to have broken away his thoughts and doubts. He realized that visiting the family of his dead friend was something that he had to do. It might be hard for him but the Gusters deserved the chance to know what happened and they deserved the chance to yell, scream, or hit him when they found out that it was all his fault.

Shawn stared at the Victorian style house that he had visited several times in his youth. Since then he had only been there a handful of times. Shawn was hesitant to take the few final steps to the front door where he would have to confront the Gusters. He had fought with himself the whole walk over but he had made his decision all he had to do now was go through with it.

He had been lucky earlier this morning. Shawn had taken a desperately needed shower and actually got dressed in something other than sweats and a tee. He had gone downstairs to the kitchen in order to eat some breakfast but instead found a note from his father. It said that Henry had gone to the grocery store but he would be back soon. Henry had also subtly implied that if Shawn wanted to go anywhere that he would take him once he got back from the store.

'_Sorry Dad this is something I have to do by myself._' Shawn thought as he placed the note back onto the counter.

He decided that instead of eating breakfast and chancing that his father would come home before he had the opportunity to head over to the Gusters that he would leave right away. He hoped that the conversation with the Gusters wouldn't take too long so he could be home before Henry realized that he was gone and had the chance to worry.

And that's how he got to the point he was at now. Too scared to move forward but equally hesitant to go back home. With a deep sigh, he mustered his courage and made his way the final few steps to the door. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. After a few moments of waiting and nothing happening Shawn began to think that maybe the family wasn't home. He turned around to leave and even made it a few steps but was interrupted with,

"Shawn?" Joy, Gus' younger sister asked.

Shawn slowly turned around but kept his head down. He stared at the cement pathway as though it was the most fascinating thing on earth.

"Shawn?" Joy asked again, a slight frustration evident in her voice.

With this Shawn looked up at Joy. He noticed the puffiness of her eyes and the dark rims that adorned them. It was obvious that she had spent little time in the past few days sleeping and rather spent it all crying. He also noticed the fact that the way she stood with one hand on her hip but the other one resting on top of her heart that she both cared about but held some anger towards the man standing in front of her.

"Um. I just wanted to come by and say I'm sorry." Shawn said quietly.

"You shouldn't be here, Shawn. My parents aren't exactly happy with you. Maybe you should just – "

"Who's at the door, Joy?" Mr. Guster interrupted. When he saw that it was Shawn his face turned into a deep scowl. "Oh no, not you. Just go away." Mr. Guster nearly yelled.

Shawn cleared his throat as Mrs. Guster joined the rest of her family at the door. "I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was about Gus. It was completely my fault. I'm really, really sorry."

Mrs. Guster broke down into tears. They weren't silent tears either. These tears were shuddering sobs that wracked her body and left her barely able to breathe.

"No kidding it's your fault!" Mr. Guster screamed. "Our Burton was so much better than your little 'psychic' detective business. He was supposed to be at work that day but his boss told us, when he called to give his condolences, that he left work because his cat, Mrs. Pickles, was having kittens." Mr. Guster took a deep breath and pulled himself up to his full height. "Burton doesn't have a cat and the only person that could come up with an excuse that idiotic is you!"

Mrs. Guster had managed to calm herself down slightly but tears were still flowing freely from her eyes. "You were supposed to watch out for him." She accused. "We told him over and over again that it would have been better for him if he stopped being your friend but he wouldn't listen to us."

When Mrs. Guster stopped speaking her husband once again started in on his tirade. "If it wasn't for you my son wouldn't have been in that warehouse. He wouldn't have been shot. If it wasn't for you he wouldn't be dead. So I don't care how sorry you are Shawn, you took our son away from us and we will never get him back. Just leave our family alone."

Mr. Guster turned and walked back into the house. As Mrs. Guster turned to do the same she muttered under her breath. "You promised you would keep him safe. You promised." With that she wiped her eyes and followed in her husband's footsteps.

With Mr. and Mrs. Guster back in the house, Shawn was left alone with Joy once again. He noticed that she had started crying silently during the confrontation between himself and her parents. God, he shouldn't have come. All he had done was made everything worse. He had angered Mr. Guster and sent his wife into hysterics. He hadn't done any good. He didn't feel any better and he sure as hell didn't comfort the Gusters at all.

"Shawn they're just angry and upset. They know that you wouldn't have intentionally hurt Gus." Joy said as she wiped away her tears. "They know that you thought of Gus as a brother and are just as hurt as we are about his death."

"Yeah, I'm sorry though." Shawn said. He was glad that one person had noticed that he was hurting too. Gus had been his best friend and now he was gone.

"Shawn, I have a question to ask you." Joy said. "I know that it will take some convincing, to get my parents to agree, but would you do the eulogy for Gus' funeral?"

Shawn was taken aback by her request. He didn't think that she would even want him there let alone give the eulogy. Sure he had known Gus since they were kids but could he really put their relationship into words. Even if he could, would anybody want to listen to the person who killed Gus? Nope, giving the eulogy would definitely be a bad idea.

"I mean you knew him the best and – "

"Sorry Joy I can't." Shawn interrupted and Joy frowned, looking hurt. He ran a hand through his hair. "Um… I'll see you at the funeral I guess." He said awkwardly as he backed away a few steps. "Bye." He turned and walked down the steps and off the porch. He had to get out of there. He couldn't stand the looks of hurt anymore. He broke into a jog as he closed in on his house just down the street. Once he got back to his house, back to his room, he would be ok. He would be alone again and he wouldn't have to pretend to be ok or try to comfort anyone else. God, he just wanted to get home.

His thoughts of coming back to a peaceful home were crushed when he saw his dad's car in the driveway. '_Dammit_' he thought. He had wanted to get home before his father had returned. When he entered the house he found his father sitting on the couch staring at the door. He felt as though he was a teenager again, getting caught sneaking back in after a night of hanging out with Gus, and that feeling that way was a bit unsettling. Shawn decided that his best course of action was to ignore his dad completely and try to get upstairs before Henry could stop him.

Shawn's plan was foiled when Henry made his presence known. "Where were you Shawn?" Shawn was going to answer but his father just continued on. "What the hell were you thinking? I didn't know where you were. You didn't leave me a note or anything. Dammit Shawn you just got out of the hospital and then you just leave without telling me what the hell is going on." Henry's face had started to turn red, and Shawn would have mentioned something about not getting his panties in a bunch if his father's anger hadn't left him speechless.

Instead of answering, Shawn just slid past his dad and ran up the stairs. He could here his father's yells of "Shawn!" when he reached to top of the stairs but he didn't care. He ran to his room and slammed the door and locked it. He just wanted to be by himself. He knew that his father cared about him but he wasn't Gus. And if he couldn't be with Gus he really didn't want to be with anyone at all.

Shawn flopped down on his bed and covered his head with his pillow. He tried desperately to block out the sounds of his dad knocking on the door and then the exasperated sigh Henry let out when he realized that his son wasn't going to talk to him. Shawn just wanted this day to be over. He wanted to move on to a day when he wouldn't hurt all the time. But the more and more he thought about it the more he came to the realization that that day would never come.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think.**

**Til next Saturday...  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Seven**

Shawn stared at his reflection in the mirror. He thought he looked kind of like the zombies in the movies that he had tried to get Gus to watch with him when they were kids. Of course, Gus had refused to watch them always saying he had a piano lesson or something to go to when the subject was brought up. Gus hadn't even played the piano. The only thing that Gus had hated more than zombie movies were movies with mummies.

Shawn smiled when he thought back to those times. He just missed his friend so much. If Gus could see him now, he would probably be commenting on the fact that Shawn still hadn't learned to iron a suit or clucking his tongue at Shawn's messy attempt at tying his tie. Out of the two of them Gus definitely cared more about how he had dressed. Really the only thing that Shawn cared about was his awesome hair. But even that had become less of a pressing matter over the last week.

He moved closer to the mirror and moved a hand to his face. He had dark circles under his eyes from nights filled with nightmares. His naturally tan skin was now slightly paler and made him look kind of sickly. If he hadn't shaved that morning stubble would have covered his face as well.

All in all, he looked like crap. He looked completely out of place in his black suit with a dark blue shirt underneath. Shawn never really wore suits before, he just didn't like them. They were confining and way too formal but he could make an exception for today. After all, today was Gus' funeral.

He heard a light rapping on his door and before he could answer his dad was slowly opening it. He poked his head in. He seemed to be unwilling or unsure of entering Shawn's room since their little spat the other night. Shawn knew that his dad was trying to respect his space and his feelings and for that he loved his dad. The kid gloves that Henry had been wearing since Shawn had gotten home weren't completely off but they were slowly disappearing.

"Hey kid. You almost ready to go?" Henry asked.

Shawn looked back at himself in the mirror and answered, "As ready as I'm ever going to be."

He took a few steps toward the door and was shocked when Henry pulled him into a tight embrace. This day had to be hard for his father as well. Henry had looked upon Gus as a sort of second son. He had taken them on trips when they were kids and taught them a bunch of stuff. He had given Gus the same advice he had given Shawn when he was having problems and had always looked on with pride when Gus had done something well. Shawn may have been Gus' best friend and confidant but he definitely wasn't the only person that missed him.

Henry released Shawn from his embrace and then awkwardly clapped his son on the shoulder. "Ok then let's get going."

The ride to the cemetery was a silent one, not that Shawn had been expecting much different. His father was never one for small talk and Shawn just didn't feel like filling the silence like he normally would. He rested his head on the cool window and stared out. The day was the opposite of a cliché day for a funeral. There weren't any clouds, no rain, and definitely no rolling thunder. Instead the sun was out and the sky was clear. It looked more like a day for a picnic rather than a funeral.

His father pulled into the cemetery parking lot and got out of the cab of the truck. Shawn reluctantly followed but at a much slower pace. When he got out of the truck he squinted his eyes trying to ward of the offending sun. He glanced around and noticed that this cemetery looked very familiar. He didn't make it a habit to go wondering around in cemeteries so it took just a few seconds for him to figure out why he remembered this one.

This was the same cemetery where Shabby the sea lion had been buried before. A laugh escaped his mouth before he could stop it. His dad looked at him with a confused look on his face. He managed to stifle his laughter. Gus would love this. He was going to be buried in the same place as his beloved Shabby. A man and his sea lion, what a perfect picture.

The father and son pair walked further into the cemetery. For each step he took, Shawn felt like ten pound weights were being added to his feet. Every step led him closer to reality. For the past few days Gus' death had seemed like just a concept; a horrible, dark, and hurtful concept but a concept nonetheless. But this funeral, seeing the casket and hearing Gus' family and friends talk about him in the past tense would make everything real. He would finally have to accept that Gus was never going to show up at the Psych office again or yell at him when Shawn would show up unannounced at his friend's apartment.

Even though they were early, there was already a small crowd formed around what was to be Gus' final resting place. The Gusters' had opted against having a memorial service and decided to just do the outdoor burial ceremony. That was probably for the best though. Shawn didn't know if he would have been able to handle both services seeing as he still wasn't sure he was going to make it through just this one.

When they reached the growing crowd, Shawn was approached by Juliet. She grabbed Shawn's hand and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. It was a sweet gesture and he was immensely grateful for it. He was going to need her today. It might be unfair to rely so heavily on his girlfriend but Shawn knew that Juliet would be happy to be able to provide the strength that he couldn't muster for himself.

"Hey Jules." Shawn said.

"Hey Shawn." Juliet responded.

It was sad that may have been the most they had said to each other in the past few days. Shawn felt like a horrible boyfriend for shutting her out but Juliet seemed to take it all in stride. She seemed to realize that he needed her there but had also needed space. She hadn't pressured him to talk to her but rather offered her silent presence as support. It had been exactly what Shawn had needed he just felt bad for not letting her in.

"I'm sorry Jules. I'm sorry I haven't been a good boyfriend the last few days. I know that you miss Gus too and I haven't been there for you at all. I mean you came over to the house so often to make sure I was alright but I never did the same for you. Thanks for that by the way."

Juliet squeezed Shawn's hand effectively bringing him out of his rambling. She looked at him and smiled.

"It's ok. You knew Gus your whole life. He was more like your brother than your friend and you lost him. I would be lost if one of my brothers died. It's natural to be upset. I'd be more worried if you weren't upset. If you had been your normal upbeat self something would have been wrong. But you've been in mourning and there's nothing wrong with that."

Juliet seemed to know exactly what he needed to hear. He had been worried that she wouldn't understand his sour mood recently. He was afraid that she wouldn't want to be with someone that was so much different than her boyfriend. He couldn't imagine what he would do if he lost her too. He couldn't lose his girlfriend so soon after losing his best friend, not when he had worked so long to get her. Geeze, he had turned into such a sentimental insecure wreck.

Juliet gently squeezed his hand again and Shawn was pulled from his thoughts. He glanced toward the other people that were congregating around him and saw his less than favorite head detective walking toward him. He didn't have the energy to deal with him right now. Shawn hardened his eyes and face into a glare and Lassiter stopped his tracks. The detective kept eye contact with Shawn for a few more seconds before conceding defeat and walked back towards the rest of the people that had come from the police department. The grudge he was holding against Lassiter was completely irrational and Shawn knew it. He knew that the detective had just been doing his job but if Shawn could be angry at anyone other than just himself, he was going to do it.

The quiet chatter that had been going on between the several mourners hushed suddenly when two black town cars pulled up a long with a hearse. The door of the town car in the front of the processional opened and Mr. Guster stepped out. He looked gruff and worn around the edges but he kept his face stoic and unemotional. The elder Guster extended his hand and a smaller, more fragile one took it. Mr. Guster helped his wife out of the car. She looked as though she hadn't slept since Gus had died. She leaned against her husband, unable to hold herself up. Out of the back car came Joy and Gus' elusive older brother, Thomas.

The two Guster men made their way to the hearse with the women trailing slightly behind. When they got to the hearse they were joined by four other men that Shawn deduced must also be members of the Guster clan. One of the men opened the door to the back of the hearse as the rest of the men lined up into two lines. Gus' casket was slowly slid from the hearse until it was being held by the six Guster men. The walk from the hearse to the gravesite was agonizingly slow.

Shawn couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from the box that held the body of his best friend. The casket was a deep glossy pine with plain silver handles. Gus would have approved of the simple elegance of the casket. Of course he probably would have preferred not to be in it.

The Gusters finally arrived at the gravesite and placed the casket on the straps that would eventually aid in lowering the pine box into the ground. The men took a step back and huddled together with the Guster women.

The priest began the service as soon as everyone was settled. He talked about the joys of life and how instead of mourning Gus' death they were celebrating his life, basically all the normal stuff that one would here at a funeral. He talked about what a good and loving man Gus was and how he would be dearly missed. He talked about the things the Gus had liked to do. All in all, the service was lovely.

However, lovely was not good enough for Shawn. The priest obviously didn't know Gus at all. He hadn't mentioned his friend's weird love for spelling bees or his crazy obsession with Pluto and whether it was a planet or not. The reverend failed to speak about Gus' fear of all things supernatural and his abnormal attachment to his little blue car. The funeral service that he was attending seemed so generic. It wasn't at all specific to Gus and this caused Shawn to feel something he hadn't in a long time. Since Gus' death all he had felt was sadness and depression but now he felt anger.

How could Gus' parents think that this was good enough for their son? How could they 'celebrate Gus' life' when the reverend didn't say anything about Gus' everyday life? It just made Shawn angry. He was angry at the Gusters for not understanding their son enough. He was angry at himself for not listening to Gus when he said to wait for backup. He was mad at Lassiter for not getting there quick enough. Hell, he was even mad at his dad for teaching him how to be a cop. He was angry at everyone.

Shawn was so caught up in his new found anger that he failed to notice that the reverend was finished speaking. He was only pulled out of his frustrations when Juliet squeezed his hand. It was then that he noticed that the casket had begun to be lowered into the ground. This was it. This was the time when everything became real. Gus was really dead. He wasn't coming back. He was going to be laying in the ground forever.

Shawn couldn't be there anymore. He couldn't be surrounded by the family of his best friend, or around the friends that they had made at the police station, he couldn't even be around his father at the moment. As soon as the casket was fully in the ground and everyone had said their last goodbyes, which Shawn couldn't bring himself to do, he started walking back to the truck. Juliet looked on with concerned confusion and his father just followed behind him.

He had almost made it all the way back to his father's truck when he heard someone call his name. He was tempted to just ignore the person but decided against it. When, Shawn turned around he was surprised to find himself face to face with Mr. Guster who looked angry. Shawn had expected to be ignored by the Gusters or maybe even by on the receiving end of some angry glances but he did not expect a confrontational Mr. Guster.

"What the hell are you doing here Shawn?" Mr. Guster exclaimed.

His face was flushed red and he was sweating. The anger he felt was radiating off the older man. But Shawn also noticed his eyes. They were bright with unshed tears. This man was lost and broken. His son was dead and in he had obviously gotten stuck in the anger stage of grief.

Shawn was angry too but even in his state of anger he realized that he shouldn't give in to the grieving father's rage.

"I'm just saying goodbye to Gus, sir." Shawn replied.

"If it wasn't for you we wouldn't have to say goodbye to him!"

"I'm sorry, I really am. I would do anything to bring him back."

"Well that's not good enough!" Mr. Guster responded.

It looked as though he was going to continue on with his tirade, and Shawn would have let him, but his dad stepped in from nowhere. He placed himself in between Shawn and the elder Guster. Shawn was surprised by his father's actions. Usually his dad was a big supporter of letting Shawn dealing with his problems on his own. When he was a kid he had even made him stand up to a kid who was bullying him instead of letting him hide in the house. This kind of fatherly support and protectiveness was completely unexpected from his dad but that didn't mean that it wasn't appreciated.

"That's it this is over now," Henry said. "I understand that you miss your son but that doesn't mean you get to take it out on my son. He misses Gus just as much as you do."

"It's your son's fault that Burton is dead!" Mr. Guster countered.

"I'm not going to tell you that my son made the best decision but Gus was a grown man who could've decided to stay outside."

"So now you're blaming my son for getting himself shot."

"No! No, I'm not blaming anyone. It was a tragic thing that happened but the only person who is to blame is the bastard that pulled the trigger," Henry tried to reason.

Mr. Guster paused at Henry's statement seemingly trying to come up with his next line of argument. However, he never got the chance as his wife came up behind him. She hooked her arm through his and steered Mr. Guster away. It was clear that Mr. Guster hadn't really taken in what Henry had said but the confrontation was over and maybe with time he would come around though Shawn thought that unlikely.

When his dad was sure that Mr. Guster was gone he turned around to face Shawn.

"I meant that Shawn. It wasn't your fault," his dad assured.

"Yeah I know," he responded even though it was clear to everyone that he hadn't believed a word that his dad had said.

Shawn hung his head and turned on his heal. Before anyone else could stop him he started walking toward the truck once again. He just wanted to be gone. Shawn wanted to be far away from the cemetery, far away from the Gusters, and maybe even far away from Santa Barbara.

* * *

So I wasn't really happy with this chapter (depressed Shawn is making me depressed.) I kept tweaking it but eventually I kinda gave up because I wanted to move on.

My protective Henry section was in response to a request made by xpsychxssjs so if you have any requests let me know.

Hope you enjoyed and let me know what you thought whether it be good, bad, or ugly [well maybe not ugly :)]

Til' next Saturday...


	8. Chapter 8

Here is the next chapter of Time of Dying. I will try my best to have the next chapter written by next Saturday but I have a Biochemistry test this week which is sure to be a b**** so I'm not sure if I'll be able to, finger's crossed though.

I also wanted to thank the people that have reviewed so far, added this to their favorites and alerts, and the lurkers who are silently reading. You are all much appreciated!

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Eight**

As soon as Henry pulled the truck into the driveway, Shawn had his door opened and was jumping out. He waited impatiently at the front door as his father slowly made his way up the walkway and unlocked the door. Shawn didn't waste anytime as he took the stairs two at a time and made it to his room in record time.

Shawn slammed the door and quickly started removing his clothing. He couldn't stay in his suit any longer. His tie felt like a noose and the suit a straight jacket. It was too confining. Shawn didn't know how Gus could wear one of these everyday. In a matter of seconds his suit sat in a heap on the floor, wrinkles quickly forming.

Shawn then went to the bathroom that was next door to his room. He turned the shower on and turned the knob so that the water was as hot as he could stand. Shawn got in and quickly started scrubbing. He wanted the smell of the cemetery off of him. He didn't want to think about the funeral but he couldn't stop when all he smelled was the fragrance of flowers, grass, and freshly dug dirt. He needed to smell like something else and he hoped that his pineapple scented body wash would do erase all the smells that came from the funeral.

He stood in the shower for what seemed an eternity and went through the entire bottle of his favorite body wash. Eventually the water started to run cold and he was forced to evacuate the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went back into his room. Shawn changed into a pair of faded worn jeans and a t-shirt. He ran the towel through his hair hoping to remove any excess water and when done he sat on his bed.

Shawn couldn't believe that it was all over. The funeral had been the last thing that had to be done after Gus' funeral. Shawn had already given his statement to Lassiter and Juliet, his dad had packed up Gus' stuff at the Psych office, and now they had buried Gus. Shawn was done.

Now the world would just move on. People would start to forget about the man that they had grieved for earlier in the day. They would go on with their families and friends and one day it wouldn't matter to them that Gus was dead.

For Shawn that day would never come. He felt as though there would never be a day when he didn't think about Gus or miss him. On one hand, he was glad that he would never forget his friend. But, on the other hand, he hated the fact that he would always feel like a piece of him was missing. He was tired of being so depressed.

Everything he looked at reminded him of his best friend and the fact that he would never see him again. Therefore, everything he looked at, everything he owned made him sad. And that in turn made him angry. He was angry that just by looking at the little army men that he and Gus had played with or the model airplane that his father had made them make could control his emotions as much as they did. They were just stupid inanimate objects but every time he saw them he got sad and then his sadness turned into anger.

Shawn didn't know what caused him to snap. All he knew was that one second he was sad and the next he was tearing around his room destroying everything in a fit of anger. He had never experienced anger this intense and it worried him slightly but not enough to stop.

The first thing he destroyed was the underwater diorama that he had been reminiscing about just a few days ago. He stomped down on it and it broke apart. He turned his attention turned to his stereo system and all of the records that he had collected as a child. Gus and he would play them as they sat in his room listening to Shawn's newest and greatest plan that would inevitably get them in trouble. Shawn took each one of the shelf individually, broke it in half, and then threw it across the room.

The next thing to go was all of the posters that adorned his walls. He ripped them off mercilessly and left them where they fell. With all of his posters on the floor, Shawn turned his attention to all of the knick knacks that he and Gus played with or that they found when exploring including his army men, action figures, and an arrowhead that Gus' had been adamant wasn't real. With one swoop of his arm, they were all cleared off of his dresser and with another swoop his shelves were cleaned.

His room was now in complete shambles. To Shawn's joy his room no longer looked anything like the room he had inhabited as a child. He realized that there was no longer anything to remind him of Gus. Shawn was pleased that when he looked around his room, he didn't automatically think about a memory of him and Gus.

However, he quickly realized that as soon as he stepped foot out of his room those memories would assault him. With his eidetic memory, he would be able to recall memories of Gus if he even passed a place that they had gone to together, even if it had only been one time. Shawn inwardly cursed. He might be able to destroy his room in order to escape his memories, but he was pretty sure that it would be some sort of crime to destroy all of Santa Barbara.

Obviously, the only thing he could do was to leave. Sure it might seem like running away to some but Shawn decided to view it as purposeful avoidance. Ok so it was running away, but Shawn was a master at it. After high school, he had spent years on the road doing odd jobs and never staying in one spot more for too long. This wouldn't be any different than that. Except, of course, this time he would be leaving Juliet behind and he wasn't completely pissed off at his dad this time around.

Shawn felt guilty about leaving them but he needed to do this. He knew that his father would try to stop him. The man hadn't let Shawn leave the house alone he definitely wouldn't be pleased with Shawn's decision to leave. Nevertheless, he decided he would do anything to leave even if that meant pissing off his dad.

He grabbed a duffel bag out of his closet and started shoving unfolded clothes into it. He would have to travel light seeing as his only mode of transportation was his bike but he figured he could get anything he forgot or didn't have room for once he found a place to lay low.

He was almost done packing when he heard a knock on the door. It had to be his dad. Shawn had been hoping that he could have had the unavoidable confrontation with his dad closer to the front door so he could have made a hasty exit.

For a fleeting moment, Shawn considered throwing his bag out the window and shimmying down the drain pipe like he did when he snuck out of the house a teenager. In the end, however, he decided he needed to do the right thing and talk to his dad before he left.

His dad knocked, once again, on the door and Shawn reluctantly made his way over to open it. It took Henry all of two seconds to push his way in once he noticed the state of disarray that his son's room was in. Over the past week, Henry had seen his son despondent and depressed but he had never noticed any hint of anger. Shawn's room was proof, however, that his son had been bottling up all of his anger and something had recently triggered an outburst.

"What the hell happened here, Shawn?" Henry demanded.

"Nothing much. Just thought I would do a little spring cleaning, maybe redecorate a little." Shawn responded cheekily.

Henry did a more thorough scan of the destruction as he stepped further into the room. It was then that he noticed the bag sitting on the floor. In an instant, he knew his son's intentions of leaving. In all honesty, Henry was surprised that it had taken this long for his son to pack a bag and disappear. However, even though Henry knew it was going to happen, he wasn't going to let his son go without a fight.

"Don't even think about it Shawn!"

"Think about what Dad?" was Shawn's coy response.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. You are planning on leaving. Running away!"

Shawn could have kept up his play of feigned innocence, never giving his dad a real answer, but he was just too tired. His act of total destruction had left him exhausted and he just didn't have the energy to keep up with his usual banter.

"I'm not running away Dad, I'm purposefully avoiding. Everything here reminds me of Gus. _Everything_. I just need to go somewhere where there isn't a constant reminder of Gus and the fact that I got him killed."

"How many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't your fault?"

Henry's emotions betrayed him and his last statement came out more heated and frustrated than he had intended. He had wanted to remain calm in order to keep Shawn calm but he could immediately tell that Shawn's relatively composed façade had broken and emotions were about to flood through.

"But it was my fault and it doesn't matter how many times you say it wasn't! I forced him to leave work and go on that stakeout with me. And before you say that it was his choice to follow me into the building, let me remind you of all the times when you told us as kids to always have our partner's back. Gus wouldn't let me go into that creepy warehouse building alone."

"Well maybe you should have waited for back-up but you couldn't have known that there was a guy in there that wanted to kill you," Henry defended.

"Dad, do you even hear yourself right now? You trained me to be a cop, or at least as much of a cop as _I _could be. You trained me to always wait for backup if there wasn't anybody in immediate danger. But I didn't listen, and because of that we went, _alone_, into a warehouse, to follow a person I thought was a suspect in a murder case, without weapons or any other way to defend ourselves. Because of that, because of my decisions Gus is dead!"

Henry had hoped that he had been able to convince Shawn that it wasn't his fault that Gus was dead but with his son's outburst he realized how unsuccessful he had been. It was clear that Shawn was in complete belief that it was his fault that his friend died and nothing that he had said in the last week had had any effect.

His dad's moment of silent shock, gave Shawn the time to collect his thoughts and grab his bag. Henry moved to stand in front of the door to block Shawn's way but with a surprising move of quickness, Shawn ducked past his dad and made it out of his room.

Shawn practically flew down the stairs and out the front door without bothering to close it. He was on his bike in a matter of seconds and shoved his helmet on his head. He managed to have his bike turned on and kickstand up by the time his dad even made it to the front porch.

"Shawn don't go!" was the last thing he heard his father yell as he turned his bike and sped down the driveway and out onto the road.

He didn't know where he was going to go. He just kept riding. As he passed the sign indicating that he was leaving the city of Santa Barbara, a sense of relief washed over Shawn. It wasn't that he wouldn't miss Juliet, his dad, and even Lassiter; it was just that he had to get away.

Being in Santa Barbara was suffocating. The memories he had there assaulted his mind at all times during the day and refused to allow him sleep at night. The only way to escape them was to escape Santa Barbara. It was that thought that kept Shawn driving to god knows where instead of returning to the safety of his dad and girlfriend.

He turned his bike onto US-101 and willed his mind to focus on the road instead of the people he left behind and the fact that Juliet would probably kill him for leaving without saying goodbye.

The highway was relatively traffic free and Shawn didn't have any problems traveling until he noticed that he was about to run out of gas. He was near the exit for Guadalupe and decided that that was as good as place as any to stop.

He pulled into a gas station and filled up his tank. Without the constant motion that his bike provided, Shawn realized how run down he was. He made the decision to stay in the city tonight and figure out what his next step would be the next morning.

After he finished paying for the gas, and noticing that he didn't have a whole lot of money with him, Shawn made his way to a motel that promised to be cheap. He checked in and paid with cash. Growing up with the great Henry Spencer had taught Shawn the quickest ways to be found were through bank records and cell phone GPS. Shawn had already ditched his cell phone on the highway and now he just had to remember to only pay for things with cash.

Using the key, yeah this motel still used keys not the modern magnetic swipes, Shawn opened the door and made his way into possibly the seediest motel he had ever stayed in. However, the rates were cheep and the manager looked as though he wouldn't tell the cops anything even if they managed to track him all the way there.

Shawn lay down in the bed, still fully closed, and shut his eyes. He hoped for at least a few hours of uninterrupted sleep but was disheartened when he was awoken by a nightmare not even an hour later. The bad dream had left him too wide awake to even consider going back to sleep. Shawn pushed himself off the bed and started to pace around the room. He quickly got bored, however, and decided he needed to do something to take his mind off things.

He remembered that there was a bar about two blocks away and thought that getting drunk would be as good as any other method of distracting himself. He grabbed his motel key and a jacket and left. Shawn decided to leave his bike in the parking lot, opting to walk instead.

In about five minutes he stood outside a bar, charmingly named "The Deep End." Shawn pushed open the door to find a small nondescript bar. There were no frills in this bar, just a jukebox which seemed to be filled with only classic rock songs, a pool table, a few wooden tables for patrons to sit at, and the bar itself.

Shawn slid himself onto a stool at the bar and ordered himself a whiskey when the bartender came over. He had grown up with cops and learned quickly that the best drink to take your mind off from a crappy case was whiskey. He had never liked the taste of the stuff, preferring something fruitier perhaps with pineapple, but he was desperate and hoped that the harder liquor would help.

He was on his fourth drink when his mind had finally started to shut down. His body had been gone about two drinks before and he was left with legs that he really couldn't feel and a fuzzy feeling brain that kept muddling up everything he attempted to think about. Overall, his mission to stop thinking had been a success.

At his sixth drink, the bartender cut him off, obviously noticing the severe intoxication that Shawn was now experiencing. When he thoroughly assured the bartender that he had walked instead of driven here, he left.

The previously five minute journey, took a total of twenty minutes to complete as Shawn staggered and had to stop every few minutes to regain his balance. When he got back to the motel, it took an additional five minutes for Shawn to correctly insert his key into the lock and open the door. He stumbled the rest of the way to the bed and crashed down unceremoniously. For the first time in a while, when Shawn closed his eyes, all he saw was complete darkness. With a sense of peace, Shawn passed out.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed it. Angry Shawn is much more fun to write than depressed Shawn.

This week was no fun (lots of exams and projects due) but you have the power to turn my frown upside down by hitting the little blue button at the bottom and leaving a review!

Til next Saturday, hopefully...


	9. Chapter 9

Here's Chapter Nine, a day late and a lot shorter than I wanted it to be, but oh well at least it's here.

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Nine**

The next day, Shawn woke up to a pounding headache. It didn't help that he hadn't closed the blinds last night and now the sun was pouring in. The sun light burned his eyes whenever he actually managed to open them. He laid in bed for what seemed hours willing his headache to go away. Unfortunately, his brain had other ideas and his headache refused to abate.

Begrudgingly, Shawn pushed himself into a sitting position and with effort managed to stand up. His hangover made him a little wobbly, but Shawn was proud when he was able to keep himself up right. He shrugged off his clothes on the way to the bathroom. He hoped that taking a shower would make him feel a little more human.

After his shower, Shawn returned from the bathroom with a scratchy-cheap motel-towel hung low around his waist. He walked over to the nightstand where he had drunkenly thrown his wallet before passing out the night before. He opened it up and with dismay counted his money. A total of $40 was all he had. That would get him a night more in the motel with a few bucks left over. He wouldn't have enough to travel anymore, not with having to fill up his tank once he reached his new destination and pay for another motel room. Nope, looked like he was stuck in Guadalupe.

Even with his plan to stay in the city, he would still need money and need it soon. He put his fingers to his temples, and almost laughed at his usual I'm-having-a-vision move, as he tried to think of any place that he could get cash. He went through all of the places that he had been the day before. It took him mere moments before he remembered that there had been a help wanted sign in the window of the bar that he went to last night. It probably wouldn't be the most luxurious job ever but it would do.

Shawn changed into a pair of worn jeans and a green t-shirt. He managed to shrug his feet into his shoes without untying the laces and put his wallet into his back pocket.

It was about one in the afternoon by the time he was ready to go and he hoped that the bar would be open so early. Shawn stepped out into the sunlight and quickly moved to shield his eyes as the light once again burned at his hung over eyes.

Since the bar was only two blocks away he chose to walk deciding that the fresh air might help out with the hangover that had slowly been disappearing since he woke up. As he walked up to the bar, he almost felt normal. The headache was gone and he hoped that his eyes weren't bloodshot because that just wouldn't make a good first impression.

Shawn was relieved when the door was unlocked. As he stepped inside he noticed that the bar seemed to be uninhabited. There wasn't anybody in the sitting area or behind the bar. He was about to leave when a man came out from the back room.

"Hey man we don't open for a few more hours," the man said.

The man was in his late twenties-early thirties. He had sandy brown hair and hazel green eyes. He was about 6 feet tall and wore a leather jacket that looked like it may have seen better days. He looked the type of man who would be comfortable carrying a gun and probably had stories that even if he told someone they probably wouldn't believe.

Shawn didn't think it was the same bartender from last night but he had been so drunk last night he was just happy he remembered how to get to the bar.

"I'm here to help you man," Shawn said with a smile. "I would like you to say 'hi' to your new employee."

"Yeah and who might that be?" the man asked skeptically.

"Why, me of course," was Shawn's cheeky response.

"Don't seem so sure of yourself. We may seem like a rundown little bar with very low standards for employment, but we do have an interview process for prospective employees here," the man said seriously, but Shawn could detect a slight smile pulling at the man's lips.

"Fine, hit me with your best shot. I shall be sure to amaze, impress, and perhaps even astound you,' Shawn said, his smile never leaving his face.

"Have you ever murdered anyone? Ever been a spy for a covert government agency? Ever fought a werewolf and lived to tell the tale?"

"Let's see, not that I remember, can't tell you or I would have to kill you which would ruin my record for not murdering anyone, and the closest thing to a werewolf I ever fought was my father after I woke him up by throwing pineapple chunks at him. Gotta tell you man, I'm glad I came out of that last one alive," Shawn responded quickly.

"Hahaha. You got the job. You start tonight at 5 and don't be late." The man started walking back to the door he had just come from. Before he reached the door, he said over his shoulder, "I'm Tom by the way," and then he was gone.

Shawn thought he was going to like this job even if it was for just long enough for him to scrounge together some cash.

Shawn wasn't looking for someone to fill the role of best friend, it was too soon, but Tom seemed like an easygoing guy with a good sense of humor. He would never be a best friend, because that spot would always be filled by Gus, but Shawn could definitely see Tom becoming a good friend.

**OOooOOooOO**

As five o'clock rolled around, Shawn found himself sitting on a bar stool waiting for Tom. He had come into the bar, called for the other man, and when no one replied decided to sit and wait. Eventually after a few minutes Tom came out from the back room carrying a tray of glasses. Tom gave Shawn an assessing glance.

"Hmm. Never had anybody actually show up on time for this job, sweet," Tom said.

"That's ok never actually showed up on time for a job before. Guess I'm growing as a person," Shawn responded.

Tom smiled. "So I realized that during my extremely thorough job interview process I didn't get your name."

"It's Shawn but you can feel free to call me Sir Awesome Hair or King of the Pineapples."

"Well ok Mr. Hairy Pineapples, let me explain to you your very difficult job. Your official title at this establishment is 'busboy.' It's a complex job so make sure you pay attention."

"Gotcha boss. Listening boss."

"One: don't call me that. Two: you see a dirty glass you pick it up of the table or whatever and put it in the bin under the bar. Three: when the bin gets full you get the awesome job of cleaning them in the sink in the back room. Four: if we ever get really busy I'll have you help me bar-tend. Think you can manage that, Shawn?" Tom questioned.

"I'm pretty sure if I try really hard I can probably do it," Shawn said, sarcasm evident in his voice.

"Good. Pay day is every Friday, and lucky for you that's tonight. I hope you don't mind being paid in cash. I know it's not completely legal but it's so much easier than doing the whole accounting business and keeping track of checks."

"No problem with that."

"Ok then welcome on board to 'The Deep End.' We have about a half hour until we open so I guess you can help me finish setting up."

The rest of the night passed quickly as the bar filled with people which was surprising to Shawn who thought that this little run down bar would only see a few random people passing through the town and the occasional regular. But instead the bar was packed with a diverse group of people ranging from young twenty somethings to people old enough to be his dad.

Shawn had forgotten how much he had missed talking to random people. He had spent the last week or so in pretty much self-enforced solitary confinement at his dad's house but now it felt good to tell crazy stories to whoever would listen.

Shawn told this one older guy who was wearing an awesome cowboy hat about how he discovered a dinosaur. To a group of young college age kids, he told the story of the great bank robbery case of 2008. However, by far, the favorite story of his various audiences was the American Duos case. People seemed to instantly remember his performance once he mentioned that he was on the show. He was asked multiple times for a rendition and by the end of the night, him and a group of patrons were singing karaoke style using the music that was playing in the jukebox.

At two in the morning the bar closed and the last of the very drunk customers were escorted out. However, there was one man sitting at the table in the back corner that looked as though he had no intention of leaving.

Shawn sighed and started walking to the table hoping that the guy would leave without too much trouble.

"Hey bud it's closing time. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here," Shawn said with a charming smile.

"You must be the new guy that Thomas hired. He said you were funny," the man said. "I'm sorry, I've been rude. My name is Edgar Watson. I own this bar and am also Thomas' brother."

Shawn knew what he heard but he couldn't believe it. The man in front of him in no way resembled Tom. Edgar was tall and skinny. His hair was nearly black and slicked back with enough grease to fry French fries in. He wore a suit that looked like it belonged to a car salesman rather than an owner of a bar. All in all, Shawn found the guy to be creepy.

"Um… yeah. My name's Shawn." He reluctantly shook the hand that Edgar offered him.

Luckily, Tom came out from behind the bar and saved Shawn from a way too awkward silence or worse an awkward conversation.

"Hey Edgar," Tom said as he greeted his brother.

"Hello Thomas." Edgar replied formally.

"How many time's do I have to tell you it's Tom not Thomas."

"OK then _Tom_. How did we do tonight?"

"Great!" Tom responded enthusiastically. "Shawn here really knows how to bring in crowd and keep him here. I've never heard such awesome stories."

"Really?" Edgar asked.

"Oh yeah. I was the head psychic for the Santa Barbara Police Department and I had some cool cases." Shawn said directing his response toward Tom.

"Cool!" Tom exclaimed.

However, if Shawn had been looking at Edgar instead of Tom he would have noticed the brief hardening of Edgar's eyes when he heard the news of Shawn's former employment. Instead however, he had only seen the amused smile of Tom so he continued on.

"Yup, I even had my own psychic detective agency with my partner and best friend Burton Guster. We had a perfect solve rate. I don't know what the cops would have done without us," Shawn said.

"So why are you here?" Edgar asked gruffly.

"I just had to leave." Shawn wasn't ready yet to tell them about Gus. He didn't know if he ever would be able to tell anyone just who Gus was.

"Fair enough. Well I'm going to leave for the night. Tom call me tomorrow so we can talk about some business stuff." Edgar left without another word.

When they heard the door slam, Tom turned to Shawn and gave him a smile.

"Sorry for my brother, dude. I sometimes swear that I was adopted."

"Why do you say that?" Shawn asked.

"Isn't it obvious? It's because I am totally awesome and Edgar is totally, well he's Edgar." Tom replied.

Shawn couldn't help but to laugh.

"Ok well come back in tomorrow, same time, and we'll see if you can survive another day." Tom said. "Oh and here." He handed Shawn a wad of cash. "There's some extra in there since today was so much busier than usual. Thanks for that."

"Welcome. See ya tomorrow!" Shawn said and then practically bounded out the door. He definitely had enough money to pay for his crappy little motel room for another week. If he kept making this much money he didn't see any reason why he would have to or want to leave Guadalupe.

Shawn was so focused on his good financial fortune that he didn't notice the black SUV that was following him and therefore also didn't notice the creepy man in the car salesman suit sitting behind the wheel.

* * *

Questions:

1) Can anyone guess my inspiration for the character of Tom? I didn't even notice it as I was writing the description for the guy but when I was finished I noticed what I had done and then laughed my butt off.

2) Would anyone like me to add in a section with the characters back in Santa Barbara or should I focus mainly on Shawn?

Let me know what you guys think! Once again, sorry this was late and short but my biochemistry test was indeed a b**** and I wanted you to have something before the weekend was over (I still have 20 minutes until it's Monday where I'm at. Go me!)

Til next Saturday!


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to everyone that has read to so far! I am overwhelmed with the amount of hits this story has gotten and I appreciate all the support in the forms of reviews, favorites, and alerts. You guys are great! So THANKS!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Ten**

Henry paced the hallway of the Santa Barbara Police Department. It had been forty eight hours since Shawn had stormed out of the house and rode off on that damned bike of his. Henry had tried to stop his son but Shawn being the stubborn idiot he was wouldn't listen to a word he had tried to say.

He had foolishly been hoping that Shawn would decide to come home. Hoping that his son would decide that it was best for him to stay with his dad rather than run off to god-knows-where.

When Shawn hadn't returned to the house by the next day Henry had decided that it was up to him to get Shawn back. He refused to let his son run from his problems. It had taken Shawn years to return to Santa Barbara when he left after high school. Henry had no clue when, or even if, Shawn would ever come home of his own accord this time.

Chief Vick had been surprised when he had shown up in her office. She had assumed that he would be staying at home with Shawn for at least a week or so more like he had told her when he asked for time off. Her confusion turned into concern quickly though when Henry told her why he wasn't at home.

She had quickly called Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara into her office and explained the situation. Lassiter looked perturbed and Juliet looked downright worried. Henry should have thought to inform her of Shawn's departure before he went to the Chief seeing as she was his boy's girlfriend. However, he wanted Shawn found quickly so he went to the person he needed to give the go-ahead for an official search and that person was Chief Vick.

Shawn hadn't been missing for 48 hours, he hadn't even been missing for a full 24 hours at that point, but the Chief said that they could start looking anyway they just couldn't list Shawn as an official missing person. That had been good enough for Henry; he just wanted to start looking.

They had traced the signal coming from the GPS chip in Shawn's cell phone. Henry had been concerned when he found out that the signal was coming from a relatively rural section of highway. He had thought that Shawn might have crashed his stupid bike again. He had been worried that he would go to the site and find his son's body lying in a ditch, broken with the crashed bike feet away.

Henry had felt a sense of relief when they arrived on the site where the signal was coming from and found the cell phone hidden in a patch of tall grass. However, his relief turned into anxiety when he realized that Shawn was no where to be found. His body was not in a crumpled heap in a ditch but nonetheless, the easiest way of finding Shawn had been ruled out.

It was now about 26 hours since they had found the cell phone on the side of the road and 48 hours since Shawn had left. Chief Vick had officially declared a missing person. Sure Shawn had technically been seen leaving under his own control but she was the Chief after all and could declare him a missing person if she wanted to and Henry was very thankful. It was always easier to find a missing person rather than just a regular guy.

They had been tracking Shawn's bank accounts to see if he took any money out of them but they hadn't had any luck. Henry determined quickly that he had perhaps trained his son too well. The phone had obviously been left on the side of the road rather than fallen out of Shawn's pocket as he was riding down the road because it was in perfect condition. He must have realized that they could have used it to track him. Henry concluded that with his son's precautions there really wasn't any need to watch his bank accounts knowing that Shawn knew that it would be easy to track a withdraw to a location.

Nope, Shawn was in hiding and he was going to make it damn difficult to find him.

**OOooOOooOO**

Juliet had tried to keep her spirits up since she learned that Shawn had left. She had known that Shawn was having a hard time since Gus had died, really who wouldn't have though? He had been quiet and reserved which wasn't like him at all. She was used to Shawn's flamboyant and quirky nature and had been concerned when he had basically been reduced to a shell of the man she loved.

She had tried to offer support, hoping that he would come to her when he was ready. She thought he was getting better, getting closer to opening up to her. He had actually talked to her at the funeral. Shawn had talked about his feelings which was something he rarely did. However, her hopes were dashed when he left without even saying goodbye.

Juliet wanted to be angry at Shawn. Angry at him for leaving without so much as goodbye after she had been as supportive and as loving as she could be. She wanted to be angry because he left without a thought about her. But try as she might, she couldn't muster up any anger towards her boyfriend. Shawn had just lost a person that might as well be considered his brother. He was well within his rights to be devastated and deal with said devastation however he wanted. She just wished that he had least told her where he was going.

Now all she could do was sit and wait until he came home. Sure they had tried looking. Carlton, Henry, and herself had spent two weeks searching but came up empty handed. Shawn had gotten rid of his cell phone and hadn't touched his bank account. The only thing they knew was that he had started out going north but he could have easily doubled back or have travelled far enough that he would have a great head start.

Where ever Shawn was he was doing a very good job of keeping himself hidden. Juliet had no doubt that if he wanted to Shawn would be able to hide for the rest of his life. He had a charming personality and was able to get people to do pretty much whatever he wanted. If he wanted to, Shawn could easily get an odd job without too much question to his background and could probably even get his employer to pay him in cash. If he decided to stay in one place, he would be able to charm the people around him and they would probably end up protecting the secret of his whereabouts even if she was able to narrow down his location.

They weren't going to find Shawn if he didn't want to be found. Juliet knew that but she also knew that she would never stop looking for him.

**OOooOOooOO**

Spencer had been gone for a month and a half. It had been a glorious month and a half. There weren't any distractions in the office, nobody prancing around having visions or whatever. It was calm, quiet, and peaceful. Lassiter couldn't think of anything better.

Of course, it would be nice if O'Hara would stop moping around. It would also be nice if Mr. Spencer would stop being so much grouchier than normal. And maybe it would be nice if someone came bounding into the office offering everyone pineapple smoothies or calling him silly nicknames. Damn, he actually missed Spencer. He had gone from absolutely despising the 'psychic', to tolerating him, to maybe, actually, liking the guy. When had that happened?

Nonetheless, he would not let Spencer beat him. Spencer might be damn good at hiding but Lassiter was a great detective in his own right. He didn't need 'visions' to find someone he could do that with good old fashioned detective work.

However, it had been over a month and they were still no closer to finding Spencer. Lassiter had forgotten how hard good old fashioned detective work was. Even though he hated to admit it, Spencer's hunches, because he refused to acknowledge them as visions, always seemed to pan out. This time Lassiter had to follow the bread crumbs to get the guy but Spencer hadn't left very many breadcrumbs to work with.

Lassiter refused to admit defeat, however. He would find Spencer if it was the last thing he did.

**OOooOOooOO**

Dare he say it, the last two months had been kind of fun. Yup, he dare say it.

Shawn loved his job at the bar. He loved telling all the patrons about his crazy cases and ending pretty much every night with a karaoke session. He had been hesitant to let himself have fun in the beginning but Tom had quickly snapped him out of that.

Tom had invited him over to his apartment one day to watch some football game or whatever. Shawn hadn't really been interested in the game but any excuse to get him out of the sleazy motel he was staying in was good enough.

Tom told him about his childhood as the son of a highly decorated special forces Marine. Tom told him about how his dad started Marine training with him when he was like five. Shawn had nearly choked on the soda he was drinking when he burst into laughter when Tom said that. Tom had asked what the hell was so funny so Shawn shared some of his favorite cop training sessions with him. Unlike Shawn, however, Tom had actually followed in his father's footsteps for a while and joined the Marine Corps after high school.

Shawn eventually told Tom all about Gus and even Juliet. Tom was very understanding about the whole thing. Tom told him about the occasions when he would lose men on the battlefield. He understood what it felt like to have a friend die in his arms.

They lapsed into an easy friendship and when an apartment opened up in his apartment complex, Tom had even helped Shawn pay for the first month's rent.

Sure Shawn had couple, well maybe more than a couple, bad days when he couldn't get Gus off his mind and would either refuse to leave his apartment or get wasted at the bar. But Tom was always there to make sure he ate something or dragged his sorry ass home after a bender.

Those days were getting fewer and further between, however.

These days Shawn spent most of his time at work or hanging out with Tom.

That night was no different. He got to work at five and helped Tom with the preparations for the night. He was in charge of stocking the bar with clean glasses as Tom made sure that all the alcohol needed was in order.

The rest of the night passed as per usual. He spent more time hanging out with the people that came in, entertaining them and keeping them at the bar, rather than actually doing work such as cleaning off the tables. It seemed like to Shawn that he got paid for his personality instead of his work ethic, which he was totally ok with.

They were just about to close the doors for the night when Edgar came strolling in. Shawn couldn't pinpoint the reason, but Edgar really gave him the creeps. It probably didn't help that the man dressed like a total sleaze ball or the fact that Tom never looked comfortable around him. Either way, the guy was weird and Shawn really wasn't too thrilled about him being there.

"Good evening gentlemen," Edgar greeted.

"Gentlemen? Really Edgar?" Tom teased. Edgar, however, found no humor in it and glared at his younger brother. The smile that Tom had been wearing quickly slipped off his face.

"Anyway," Edgar growled out. "I just wanted to come and congratulate you two on a good job. I've been looking over the books and these last two months have been the most profitable we've had in a long time."

"You can thank Shawn over here." Tom said. "Who knew that all we needed to make this place a hit was a psychic with crazy stories?"

Edgar did not look pleased with Tom's explanation of their success.

"Well whatever the reason, good job."

Edgar walked over to the bar and grabbed three glasses. He turned his back to them in order to fill the glasses. With Edgar's back turned, Tom offered Shawn a confused shrug. Before Shawn could respond though Edgar turned back around with three the glasses filled about a quarter of the way with some golden liquid that Shawn guessed was whiskey.

Edgar handed Shawn a glass first and then gave one to Tom.

"Cheers to the success. Let's hope it continues." Edgar tilted the glass back and finished the drink in one swallow.

With slight hesitance, Shawn and Tom did the same.

When he was finished with his drink, Shawn tried to make a hasty exit. He had been hoping to get to hang out with Tom but he really didn't want to be around Edgar. So he quickly said goodbye, grabbed his jacket, and left.

He was walking to his bike when he started to feel funny. Something wasn't right with him. He felt kind of drunk but that couldn't be it seeing as he had only had that one drink. Nevertheless, his head felt like it was underwater and he couldn't really see straight. He took a few more steps toward his bike before his feet seemed to turn to lead.

The last thing he remembered was falling to the ground. He felt the cool asphalt on his cheek and then his eyelids, which seemed to weigh a ton, closed.

* * *

First, let me say sorry for the late update. I realize that it is Tuesday rather than Saturday.

This leads me to my second point. It's the last few weeks of school so I have my final set of midterms, projects, and then finals. Because of this my regular updating may be coming to an end. I will try as hard as I can to update every week but I don't want to promise something I can't deliver.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter. In the next chapter we'll get to some Shawn whump - that shouldn't make me happy but for some reason it does :)


	11. Chapter 11

This poor little chapter had so many things working against it: writers block, work, exams, projects. Anywho, the result was a short chapter that is incredibly late. So to the nice people that are reading this even in light of my tardiness, sorry and thanks.

Hope you enjoy!

Oh and I would like to blame my roommates for the next few chapters: one of them because this is part of her birthday checklist (Shawn whumpage) and the other because she has a dark twisted mind and helped me come up with some of this stuff :)

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Eleven**

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Shawn slowly came back into consciousness. His world slowly went from black to gray and his brain started to click back into gear.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Before he even opened his eyes, Shawn knew he wasn't in his room, or the bar, or anywhere he knew really. He desperately tried to remember what had led to him being in a strange place but try as he might nothing was coming to him.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Shawn's eyes flew open. That dripping sound was super annoying and blocking out any attempts for him to remember what the hell had happened. He quickly found the source of the dripping and glared at the leaky pipe hoping that just by staring at it the pipe would get the hint and shut up. The pipe, of course, didn't care what Shawn did and continued to drip.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Humph" Shawn pouted.

Giving up with the pipe, Shawn focused his attention on what most people might consider the more important things. For instance, he noticed fairly quickly that he was tied to a chair. Both his wrists and ankles were thoroughly tied down to the chair with a course rope that made the skin it was coming into contact with itchy.

Next, he scanned the room which was serving as his prison. There was only one window high up in a corner so very little light was trickling into the room. He saw a water heater and the walls were cluttered with shelves that held tools and there were a pile of boxes in the corner. If he had to hazard a guess, Shawn would guess that he was in a basement.

'_Hmm tied up in some strange person's basement. Not the best Saturday I've ever had,_' Shawn thought.

Shawn heard a creaking overtop him and deduced that the owner of this basement was home and probably wouldn't stay a stranger for very much longer. It took only a few more minutes for him to hear the door at the top of the stairs open. Shawn craned his neck hoping to see who was going to come down the stairs.

He was disheartened, but not really surprised, to see the slimeball Edgar practically saunter down the steps. '_Guess the creepy guy is actually creepy'_ Shawn thought to himself.

"Oh good. It looks like you're finally awake," Edgar said smiling.

"Well, you know I usually like to sleep in on a Saturday but I thought since you were being such a gracious host and all that I wouldn't sleep the day away."

"That's very thoughtful of you Shawn," Edgar responded, the smile still plastered to his face.

"Now that the pleasantries are over, you mind telling me what the hell I'm doing here?" Shawn asked at a volume barely under yelling.

The smile that had been on Edgar's face quickly disappeared.

"I want you to tell me how much you know."

Shawn tried to mask the confusion he felt at that point. He had absolutely no clue what the hell Edgar was talking about. However, if he had learned anything during the past thirty or so years of his life was to make sure nobody knew how confused or scared you were. In order to do that you had to keep talking, or at least that's how Shawn solved that problem.

"Let's see. I know that 2+2=4. I know that regular Oreos are about a hundred times better than the stupid peanut butter ones that they decided to come up with. I know that you have to watch your easy-bake oven closely when trying to make a pineapple upside down cake or it might catch on fire. I know that you use way too much product in your hair _and_ I know that your stupid pipes are leaking. That good enough for you," Shawn said in all of one breath.

Shawn should have expected it but it still stung when Edgar backhanded him across his face.

"I don't have time nor do I want to hear your smart mouth, Shawn. I want to know what you know about my business. Thomas is always talking about your 'psychic' abilities and how you worked for the police department. And now I need to know what you know about my business."

Shawn was still confused as hell but thought playing along with the crazy and obviously deranged man who had him tied up to a chair might be a good idea. He knew that this business that Edgar was talking about had to be some kind of illegal otherwise he wouldn't be flipping out as much as he was. Shawn also knew that Tom had no clue what the hell his brother was up to. Finally, he knew that he would piss of Edgar no matter what he said so he might as well have fun freaking out the older man.

"Let's just say I know enough to put you away for a long time," Shawn lied with a mischievous smirk. "However, if you let me go now we can just forget all about this little incident. Maybe we could even go play a nice game of pool?"

Once again Edgar's response was a backhand to Shawn's face. This time though Shawn could taste the metallic flavor of his blood as it flowed out of a cut on the inside of his cheek.

Shawn spit some of the blood onto the ground and smiled.

"I'm gonna take that as a maybe?"

"You will tell me what you know. Don't get me wrong I'm going to kill you. I can't have you going and telling the police on me. However, if you cooperate your death will be quick. I have to tell you that the only lesson my father ever taught me that I found at all interesting was his lesson on interrogation. I decided to do further research on my own even after the old man died," Edgar said with a smirk that was in no way comforting.

"You have one more chance to tell me what you know before we begin. So do you have anything to tell me?"

"Seeing as I already covered the atrocity that is your hair, nope."

Edgar walked behind Shawn to an area of the basement that no matter how much he tried he couldn't see. Edgar quickly reentered Shawn's area of view and in his hand was a knife, a very, very sharp knife. Shawn tried to hide his fear but couldn't manage to cover up his audible gulp when his eyes took in the knife.

Edgar twirled the knife in his hands a few times before making a quick slice across Shawn's bare arms. A pained hiss escaped Shawn because damn that hurt. Even through his pain, Shawn didn't miss the maniacal, pleased smile that formed on Edgar's face when he heard the pain that Shawn was in.

He had been promised a quick death if he talked but he wasn't so sure Edgar would have kept his end of the deal even if Shawn had anything to tell him.

Edgar made another slice across his arm. This time Edgar pulled the knife across his arm agonizingly slow. The cuts that were being formed weren't deep but the knife had a serrated edge and Shawn could practically feel the skin being ripped apart.

Blood was flowing freely from his cuts. Some of it was pooling on the ground while the rest of it was being absorbed by the ropes that held Shawn firmly in place.

By the fifth cut Shawn had gotten control over his reactions. He had stopped hissing in pain every time Edgar sliced his skin open.

Edgar seemed to notice Shawn's tolerance to the enforced pain growing and began to slice deeper and that did the trick. Shawn was back to hissing and flinching whenever the knife touched his skin.

By the time Edgar was done, both of Shawn's arms were littered with cuts of various depths and lengths. He felt as though they were on fire and couldn't help but whimper whenever he inadvertently moved them.

Edgar left Shawn's line of sight for a brief second and returned with a bottle of clear liquid.

"Thanks man I am quite parched," Shawn said sarcastically. "I'll take mine with ice please."

Once again, Edgar responded to the sarcasm with a slap to the face. That man really needed to learn to use his words instead of violence.

Edgar unscrewed the cap of the container and stepped closer to Shawn.

Shawn hoped, more like prayed, that it was just water and not some form of alcohol. However, his hopes were dashed when Edgar poured the liquid on his cuts and Shawn felt an agony unlike any other pain he had ever felt.

He howled out in pain and tears formed in his eyes. The fiery feeling he had felt earlier turned into an inferno and it took all of Shawn's will power to blink back the tears rather than letting them fall. He refused to let his tormentor see him cry.

Edgar laughed as Shawn's screams slowly subsided to whimpers.

"I think that was a good introduction to the pain that you will feel until you tell me what I want to know. I have to get to the bar now since Thomas is going to be down a pair of hands but don't worry I'll see you again tomorrow morning."

Shawn glared up at the other man as he collected his knife and turned to leave. Edgar took the steps out of the basement two at a time and was quickly at the top.

"See you tomorrow Shawn. That's when the real fun will begin."

Edgar flipped off the light switch and closed the door. Shawn was plunged into darkness.

Shawn had been kidnapped before. He'd been thrown into a trunk and chased through the woods before. He'd had guns shoved into his face and been threatened by crazy psychopaths before. He had been through countless crazy things before but he had always had people looking for him. He could always count on Gus to let people know he was in trouble and then he had always been able to rely on Lassie, Jules, and his dad to find him.

This time, however, he was all on his own and it was of his own doing. He had run and had done a damn good job of hiding. There was no Gus, no Lassie, no Jules, and no dad. Nobody was going to come to his rescue this time.

All alone in the darkness, Shawn let the tears that he had held back before fall.

* * *

Don't know when the next chapter will be up. Crazy with a capital C few weeks coming up but I'll try to post when I can.

Thanks for your continued support.

Til as soon as possible...


	12. Chapter 12

When I said that I wouldn't be able to update regularly I didn't think that I meant I wouldn't update for almost a month. Wow. The only acceptable excuse for this would be if I had been kidnapped by a tribe of cannibals or something and just now managed to escape but since that didn't happen all I can say is sorry. Feel free to throw virtual rotten tomatoes at me.

I just finished all my exams and everything so it will definitely not be another few weeks before I update again. I am hoping to have another chapter done in just a few days.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Twelve**

Shawn woke up as the light from the rising sun started to filter into the room. There was one _little_ window, letting in one _little _ray of sun, and yet, of course, the chair he was tied to had to be directly in its pathway.

If it wasn't bad enough that his arms stung like he had been attacked by fire ants and that his ass had officially fallen asleep from sitting in a hard wooden chair all night, now it seemed that the universe was trying to torture him as well. All he wanted to do was sleep through as much of this nightmare as possible, but no, the sun had decided that it would be fun to wake him up at, what he was sure, was an ungodly, early hour. Stupid sun.

Shawn decided that as long as he was awake, he might as well try once again to get out of the ropes that currently held him to the chair.

His father had taught him many things: how to pick handcuff locks, how to track suspects through the woods, and even how to escape from a locked trunk. But his dad had failed to teach Shawn how to get out of ropes when both of his wrists were tied down. There had obviously been a glaring oversight in the Henry Spencer "how to train a mini-me" program. He would have to inform his dad of the mistake when he got out of the basement.

The only things that Shawn had manage to accomplish an hour later were aggravating the cuts on his arms and rubbing his wrists raw. He hated admitting defeat, but even he realized that escaping on his own was going to be nearly impossible as long as the stupid ropes were present. With a sigh he decided to sit and wait to see what was going to be in store next.

He had heard Edgar get home at around two in the morning so he figured he had at least an hour or two before the psycho would be awake. He really didn't want Edgar to come and hurt him anymore, but in all honesty Shawn was bored. The pain might suck but annoying the crap out of Edgar was actually really fun and almost, _almost_, worth it. He smirked at the thought of a pissed off Edgar and settled down to wait for the monster to rise.

**OOooOOooOO**

Tom was worried about Shawn. Well maybe not worried, cause that sounded girly. No, he was concerned about Shawn. It had been three days since the former psychic had shown up at the bar for work.

The first night hadn't been that big of a deal. Edgar had surprisingly showed up and helped out and Tom had just assumed that Shawn was sick or something. The next night, when Shawn didn't show up he had gone over to Shawn's apartment after his shift. He had knocked for five minutes before giving up. He noticed that Shawn's bike wasn't in the parking lot.

Tom had hoped that maybe Shawn had just met some super hot chick and was currently too tired from certain activities to get out of bed. However, he thought that unlikely seeing as Shawn spent so much time talking about this girl named Juliet. He wasn't sure what their current relationship was but it was clear that Shawn had more than a crush on her.

Anyway, it was now the morning after the third night of Shawn's absence. It was now past time to be hoping for the best case and time to be more realistic. Something had to have happened to Tom's new found friend. Shawn was slightly unreliable when it came to schedules but he always at least called when he was going to be late or something. This time, however, Tom hadn't heard a word from Shawn and was starting to get worried, no not worried, _concerned_. He figured that it was probably time to do something or at least tell someone about Shawn's disappearance.

**OOooOOooOO**

_Ouch_. Everything hurt. His whole body felt stiff and sore. In general he felt like he had been hit by a Mack truck. But actually he had been hit by a baseball bat, many, _many_, times. Now he was felt like a piñata that had been strung up for a bunch of bikers to beat the crap out of. Shawn kept looking down at himself, waiting for the candy to pour out of him.

For the past three days, Edgar had come in every afternoon to beat him. It was pretty much the same routine. He would start with his fists and eventually move onto the bat when his fists became sore from coming into constant contact with Shawn's face and body. Sometimes he would spice it up and add in some more knife work but he usually only saved that for when Shawn managed to really piss him off.

However, it became clear yesterday that Edgar was ready to lose all of his marbles. Shawn had perhaps baited him some by mentioning that he was obviously the less awesome Watson brother and Edgar had completely flipped out. He had heard of sibling rivalry before, but really, did being compared to your brother mean that you had to go psycho and almost stab somebody? Overreaction much?

Shawn made a mental note reminding himself that he was allowed to make fun of the psychopath but just not when said psychopath had a knife in his hand.

Back to the point, Edgar was continually falling farther and farther off his rocker. On one hand, it was really funny. Edgar would get so worked up about the smallest things and Shawn could practically see the smoke coming out of the guy's ears. On the other hand though, more-crazy Edgar was a lot more painful than less-crazy Edgar. Apparently craziness was in direct correlation to ability to inflict pain.

Shawn thought he was a pretty tough guy. Sure he might not look or act like one but he had what he considered a pretty high pain tolerance. He hadn't even cried when he was young and jumped off the roof, trying to fly, and broke his arm. But he felt as though he was starting to reach his breaking point. Not only was he being continually hurt but he was tied up all the time. Shawn was not one to stay still and this forced imprisonment was starting to drive him crazy.

However, he didn't know what to do. If he told Edgar he didn't know anything, the guy could kill him or just not believe him. But even if he could figure out what was up with Edgar and tell him what he actually knew he was sure that Edgar would kill him on the spot then too. It was basically a lose-lose situation. He would just have to suck it up for a little longer. Maybe, Edgar would get bored and just forget about him.

It was clear though that Edgar was not going to forget about him today though. Shawn could hear him moving around upstairs and knew that he would be down in just a few minutes for today's game of "wack a psychic." He took the few minutes to collect himself so that Edgar wouldn't see just how much he was hating this.

**OOooOOooOO**

"Um… hi. I would like to speak to Juliet O'Hara," came a man's voice over the phone.

Juliet was leaning back in her chair with one hand holding the phone and the other clutching a coffee cup. Lassiter and her had been up for pretty much the past 72 hours with the only sleep coming from the short catnaps they took at their desks. They had been working a kidnapping case of a little girl. They had worked around the clock trying to find her but in the end they had been too late and the girl had been killed. It was a horrible, soul-crushing case, and all Juliet could think about was the fact that they might have gotten to the girl in time had Shawn been there.

"Hello?" the voice asked.

Juliet shook her head hoping to dislodge the memories of the past case.

"This is she. What can I do for you?" she replied.

"My name is Tom. Tom Watson. I own a bar in Guadalupe."

"Ok?" Juliet was confused. She had no clue why this guy was calling.

"One of my employees hasn't shown up for work in the past three days and I think something might have happened to him."

"Sorry sir but you have to contact your cities police department about that," Juliet was about to hang up when the voice on the other end of the phone started speaking again.

"I know but my employee's name is Shawn Spencer. He mentioned that he used to be a consultant for the Santa Barbara Police Department and he always talked about a Juliet O'Hara which I am assuming is you."

At the mention of Shawn's name, Juliet stopped breathing. Had she heard him correctly? Was he talking about her Shawn Spencer? He had been gone for over two months. Lassiter, Henry, and herself had all assumed that he would be in some far off land doing god-knows-what. Instead, he was about a hour up the highway, in some small little town, working at a bar. That made no sense. He was that close but he hadn't called or come home to visit. What the hell was his problem?

Juliet then remembered the other information that this man, Tom Watson, had told her. Shawn was missing. _Again_. Was he really missing or had he just run off again?

"Wait. I need you to start from the beginning. Tell me everything you know."

"Um… ok. Let's see about two months ago this guy comes to my bar asking for a job. I gave him a job as a busboy/bartender but his position has started to turn into more of an in house entertainer, I guess you could call him. Basically, he goes around the bar entertaining my customers with crazy stories of his past cases, recipes that always seem to involve pineapple and an easy bake oven, and usually ends the night with a song or two on the jukebox. Gotta say, he brings in a lot of people.

But anyway, three nights ago he stopped coming to work. I thought maybe he was sick or something but he didn't call. I went to his apartment and his bike wasn't in the parking lot. I might have picked the lock to his apartment to see if I could find any clues about his whereabouts but, I couldn't find anything. In my search for clues, I found your business card. I recognized your name so I thought I would call you."

"Ok that's good. I'm going to need Shawn's address so I can come up there and check things out for myself."

"Do you think you could come alone? I don't know much about Shawn's past but he only really talks about you and I'm not sure he would particularly like to be surprised by his dad and some guy named Lassiter. I mean I know you would have to tell them if something serious was going on but do you think it could just be you until you're sure it's actually something bad?" Tom asked.

"That's probably for the best. I don't want to get Henry's hopes up and Lassiter might kill him before I get a chance to."

Juliet scribbled down the address that Tom gave her and hung up. She quickly went to the Chief's office and requested a few vacation days. After the grueling case they had just dealt with the Chief granted her time off without any questions.

Now all she had to do was head on up to Guadalupe to figure out what the hell had happened to Shawn this time.

**OOooOOooOO**

Shawn had been right. It was approximately thirteen minutes later when Edgar came prancing down the stairs. He looked particularly gleeful this morning which couldn't mean anything good.

"Good morning Shawn!"

"What's up with you? Did you get to kick a puppy or steal candy from a baby this morning?"

"Ah. I guess you've noticed my good mood. I just received something from a friend of mine and I want to share it with you."

Edgar pulled out a syringe from his pocket and lifted it up so he could stare at it like it was made of pure gold.

"This is called phenylketoactylhydrase, or demon's venom as I like to call it. An associate of mine accidentally developed it while trying to create something a little more recreational."

Well that answered it, Edgar was a drug dealer. At least Shawn knew something now.

"Good thing he stumbled upon this little gem though. Do you want to know what it does Shawn?"

"Not really. I mean I like House and all but all of that medical mumbo jumbo confuses the hell out of me."

"Too bad I'm going to tell you anyway. You might want to be prepared for what is going to happen to you once this stuff takes effect. Basically, this serum interrupts the pain receptors in the brain so that they are constantly firing off intense signals of pain. I've been told that it feels as though you are being consumed by fire as well as being sliced open by thousands of knives at the same time. Of course, I've never gotten to witness anybody suffering from this. Today, it seems, is my lucky day."

Shawn was actually starting to get nervous. Even if this stuff didn't cause all of the pain that Edgar was promising it still was something unknown and he wasn't looking forward to being injected with a mysterious substance. He tried to remain calm but he couldn't help the squirming that his body started.

"I told you man, I don't know anything."

"I'm starting to believe you on that Shawn. But the thing is, I can't let you go anyway so I might as well have some fun while I have you at my disposal."

Before Shawn could make any more protests Edgar plunged the syringe into his arm and emptied the mysterious contents until there was nothing left.

The effects of the drugs happened almost instantaneously. Shawn's heart started beating quicker and his breaths were coming in the form of ragged puffs. It only took a few more moments until his pressure was starting to build up in his skull. The pressure quickly turned into extreme pain.

Edgar wasn't lying when he said that it felt like he was on fire and being stabbed. Only it was worse than that. The pain that Shawn was in was indescribable.

Shawn couldn't help it when a strangled cry erupted from his throat nor could he stop the several that followed that.

He wasn't able to breathe. His lungs were constricting on him and his heart was pounding like a jackhammer was trapped in his chest.

Shawn felt as though his body was going to explode. The pain was all consuming.

He couldn't focus on anything other than the intense pain and trying to breathe. There was no remaining stoic or hiding his pain with a witty comment. In fact, Shawn could feel tears freely streaming down his face.

Shawn would have gladly welcomed death at this point; anything to stop the fiery pain that covered his entire body. He even would have begged Edgar to kill him if he could stop screaming long enough to ask.

He couldn't tell how long the pain went on but eventually it started to gradually fade. His throat was raw from constant screaming and his muscles were sore from his attempts at squirming away from the pain. His wrists were bleeding from being pulled against the ropes and all of the cuts on his arms had once again been opened.

Shawn was absolutely exhausted. He couldn't do anything but let his head loll against his chest and hope that sleep would claim him quickly.

He yelped when Edgar grabbed him by his hair and pulled his head back. Edgar spoke into Shawn's ear.

"That was more enjoyable than I thought it would be. I will have to talk to my associate about getting some more so we can play again."

Shawn groaned when Edgar released his head.

Edgar was half way up the stairs when he turned around and spoke again.

"Oh by the way, you might be having some visitors tonight. See, I forgot to mention one of the side affects of this drug is vivid hallucinations. Hope you have fun."

With a chuckle, Edgar climbed the rest of the stairs.

Shawn didn't let himself relax until he heard the lock on the basement door click into place. He was ready to just sleep. He didn't want to deal with the crazy hallucinations that his over active imagination was bound to come up with. He closed his eyes and hoped that his mind would shit down quickly.

He was almost asleep when he heard a voice. At first he couldn't make out what the voice was saying but he knew that he should not be hearing this particular voice. After all it was coming from a person he never thought he would hear from again.

He opened eyes and scanned the basement until he came across a figure leaning against the wall. He wanted to believe that this was real, but it couldn't be, could it?

"Gus?"

* * *

I am such a mean person. I realize this. I like hurting Shawn way too much. Hopefully, you like some Shawn whumpage though too. If you feel so inclined, let me know what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

If you were to ask anybody that remotely knows me they would say that I have a few issues with honesty, but I'm going to give it a shot.

I had the first half of this chapter done a few weeks ago and then my internet connection died. After a few calls to our internet provider, the internet in our house was restored about a week and a half later. And then, if I'm being honest, I completely forgot about fanfiction as a whole (reading it and writing it.) Oops.

Then I got a review from **Psic** asking if I was alive. And the answer is "yes" I am alive but completely embarrassed for taking so long to update.

If I ever take this long again to update please, PLEASE, yell at me to get my ass in gear. I have the attention span of a goldfish and need to be reminded to focus on things. So thank you Psic!

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Gus?" Shawn asked with trepidation. The figure leaning up against the far wall looked a lot like his best friend but then there was the small issue of his best friend being dead.

"Hey Shawn," Gus answered.

"Not that I don't want to hang with you and all buddy, but, um, what are you doing here?"

The only answer that Gus gave was a look of confusion.

"No offense dude but you're no Patrick Swayze and I'm definitely no Demi Moore. You died months ago and if what I heard is right, that means that you can't be here."

"Shawn did you even listen to wait Edgar said a few minutes ago? He said that the drug he injected you with was known to cause hallucinations."

"Oh yeah. It would be much cooler if you were a ghost though."

"You know that's right," Gus replied.

"So what do you want to do? I'm kind of tied up so that means no mini golf or anything that requires hands. But we can totally tell ghost stories or play 'would you rather?'"

"You know I could totally tell scarier ghost stories than you, but shouldn't you be trying to get out of here or something?" Gus questioned.

Shawn looked at Gus with confusion.

"I'm not sure if you noticed, but I'm kind of bound to this chair, and not in a good way. I tried to get out but I can't. All I managed to do is rub all the skin off my wrists and open up all of these stupid little cuts on my arms. Who the hell thinks of giving a guy like a thousand really bad paper cuts anyway?'

"It's called slow slicing, Shawn. It's a form of torture that was used in China from 900 AD to the early twentieth century. We saw it on the show about ancient China on the history channel a few months ago, remember?"

"Oh yeah, but still who uses an ancient torturing technique on a guy? Not cool," Shawn complained.

"Obviously someone who is not a fan of the Shawn Spencer charm," Gus offered as an explanation.

"No one is immune to the Spencer charm!" Shawn defended.

"Stop changing the subject Shawn. You should be escaping not just sitting here. No one's going to rescue you so the only way you're going to get out is if you escape on your own," Gus admonished.

"I thought I explained the fact that I'm stuck to a chair."

"The Shawn I knew would have figured out a way out of here. He would have seen something that nobody else would have noticed and used that to get himself out of trouble. It's almost like you don't want to save yourself."

Shawn looked down at his lap and refused to meet Gus' eyes. Gus was shocked to realize that what he just said was the truth.

"That's it! You don't want to be saved. You're ok with this crazy guy hurting you and you're ok with the fact that if you don't do something soon you're never going to leave this basement alive! That's just stupid Shawn! You know Lassiter's right, you are an idiot," Gus yelled at his friend.

Shawn's voice took on a sad and serious tone when he spoke. "I tried Gus. I moved to a different town and got a new job. I was getting better and things were starting to go well. But still there's this part of me that feel's like I'll never be truly ok again. You were my best friend and now you're gone. I made a new friend and he's a great guy but he's not you and I sit there when I'm hanging out with him and just hope that all of the sudden he'll be gone and you'll be there instead," Shawn said with a sad chuckle. "And now I sound like a big girl with too many mushy feelings but that's how I feel. I just don't want to try and feel normal again, especially when it's my fault that you're dead."

"Shawn, you better be listening to me because I'm only going to explain this to you once. It wasn't your fault that I died. I chose to follow you in to the warehouse. I chose to leave work in the middle of the afternoon to go on that case with you because I wanted to. I might have complained a lot about all the cases that we worked and how much time I spent away from my pharmaceuticals job but I chose to start Psych with you and I would do it all again because it was fun Shawn. Pissing off Lassiter and hanging out with you and Juliet everyday was fun. So I don't want you blaming yourself anymore. It was my choice to do what I did not yours."

Shawn finally looked back up at Gus. He was slightly choked up and was finding it difficult to form words. Luckily, Gus spoke again.

"Now, get to work getting out of here."

**OOooOOooOO**

Juliet pulled her car into the parking lot of the apartment complex that Tom had guided her to at around six in the evening. She parked in the spot closest to Shawn's apartment and got out of the car. Before heading to Shawn's apartment she knocked on the door of Tom's unit.

She was surprised when no one answered the door. She had called Tom earlier to let him know that she would be there within a few hours. She knocked again and when she still received no answer she moved on to Shawn's apartment.

She tried the door knob but it was locked. Juliet was about to find the superintendent of the building when the door to Shawn's apartment opened. Behind it was a man that she didn't recognize and instinctively Juliet pulled her gun on the stranger.

"Wooh, wooh!" Tom yelled as he threw his hands up into a surrendering position. "I'm Tom. I'm Tom Watson the guy who called you! Can we please just put the gun down?"

Juliet blushed with embarrassment as she put her gun back into her holster.

"Sorry," she offered her hand, hoping that she hadn't startled the man too badly.

"It's ok. I probably should have told you that I was going to be in Shawn's apartment when you called this morning," Tom explained as he shook the hand that Juliet had offered.

"Why exactly are you in Shawn's apartment?"

"Well you see, um, getting into the apartment wasn't the hard part. All I needed was a sturdy credit card and the lock popped open. But, um, you can't exactly lock the apartment back up with said credit card. So I stayed here to make sure that nobody broke into the apartment since I couldn't lock it from the outside. But don't worry," Tom added in quickly, "I tried not to touch too many things so not to impede any investigation that you might conduct."

"Thanks. I'm glad that Shawn found a friend like you. I guess I shouldn't be surprised though, Shawn seems to make friends like people breathe air."

"That he does," Tom said. He realized that they were still standing in the doorway and he invited Juliet in.

Juliet looked around the relatively barren apartment. For a second, she doubted that she was in the right man's apartment. Shawn was notorious for collecting little things that would clutter up any space that he was in. His desk at the Psych office was covered in things that many people considered junk but seemed to mean a lot to Shawn and his home in Santa Barbara wasn't much different.

However, in this apartment she didn't see any collectables. His dining room and coffee tables were clear of any clutter. This couldn't be the apartment of the Shawn she knew. She explored the rest of the apartment hoping to catch some glimpse of the man that she loved. Eventually she ended up in his bedroom.

The first thing she noticed, when she entered the room, were two pictures that sat on the end table near his bed. One was a picture of Shawn and Gus when they were younger. They couldn't have been more than ten years old in the photo. They were wearing their Boy Scout uniforms and sitting on what looked to be a homemade raft.

The second picture was one that Juliet recognized. It was a picture taken of Juliet, Lassiter, Shawn, and Gus at the last police department picnic. They were all smiling, well Lassiter wasn't, and standing by a picnic table where Shawn and Gus had just won the team pineapple contest. The contest had been Shawn's idea, of course. That picture had been taken just three weeks before Gus was killed.

Juliet put the pictures back down on the end table and tried to stealthily wipe the tears that were threatening to fall. It was too late to help Gus but she wasn't going to let anything happen to Shawn.

"Ok, let's get started finding Shawn."

**OOooOOooOO**

Shawn's right wrist was bloody from trying to rip through the ropes that held him in place. It was taking a long time, the nail he had found was not the best tool for cutting rope and every few cuts Shawn would miss the rope completely and the nail would cut into his arm. He would wince in pain but his determination to escape never faltered.

He had had to move the chair from the middle of the room to the far side of the basement where he had noticed a nail that had gone too far through a supporting beam and had the sharp side sticking out. He had accomplished his travels by pushing off of the ground with his feet and making what seemed to be a thousand little jumps toward his destination. The hops had jarred the ribs that Shawn were pretty sure were broken after Edgar had gone all Barry Bonds on him and made the whole trip extremely painful. It had taken forever but eventually he reached the nail and began cutting the rope.

After a few hours, the rope was almost cut through. Gus had spent the time encouraging Shawn to keep going and not to quit. As the time wore on however, Gus seemed to slowly fade and would sometimes disappearing for minutes at a time. It didn't take a genius to realize that the drugs that Edgar had injected Shawn with were starting to wear off.

When Shawn began to sense that it was the last few minutes that the Gus hallucination would be with him, he stopped working the rope.

"What are you doing Shawn? You have to keep going," Gus encouraged.

"I don't want you to leave again," Shawn said.

"I have to Shawn, you know that. If I stayed, that would mean that you were crazy. Sane people don't hallucinate about their dead best friend."

"I'm sure if you asked my dad he would say that I'm already crazy, so why change now?" Shawn challenged.

"I really wish I could hit you right now," Gus sighed. "You have to move on. Go back to Santa Barbara, stop being such a jerk to Juliet, and annoy your dad. Live your life, otherwise I will come back as a ghost and haunt your ass and I won't be of the Casper variety."

"Fine," Shawn huffed. "No need to be such a clownfish without any stripes. I don't think you were this bossy when you were alive."

Without any warning Gus was gone and when he didn't return a few minutes later Shawn had to come to the conclusion that he wasn't coming back. Shawn didn't get his dramatic movie ending when the two main characters would spend the last fifteen minutes saying sappy goodbyes. Instead Gus just simply disappeared without a 'see ya later,' 'hasta la vista baby,' or 'in a while, crocodile.'

It took Shawn a few minutes to get over the sudden disappearance of his friend but when he did he quickly got back to cutting the rope with the nail. He had promised Gus, never mind that he was a hallucination, that he would get out of the basement and move on and for once in his life he wasn't going to quit before he accomplished his goal.

A few minutes later, his determination was rewarded when the rope that held down his wrist was cut in half. Using his newly freed hand Shawn made quick work of the rope that was binding his left wrist to the chair and then the ropes holding his ankles.

Shawn braced himself against the pain as he tried to stand up. The muscles in his unused legs felt week and he had to lean most of his weight against the wall in order to remain upright. His ribs burned and Shawn was surer than ever that they were, indeed, broken.

Light was streaming through the window and Shawn knew that Edgar was going to be coming down to the basement soon. He had to get out of there soon if he wanted any chance of escaping undetected. Even though his body was screaming for rest, Shawn grabbed a putty knife and a hammer that sat on the tool bench and started to shuffle his way to the stairs that would lead out of his prison. He gripped onto the railing and pulled himself up the first stair, and then the next, and then the next.

Eventually Shawn reached the top of the stairs. He placed his head against the door. He didn't hear any signs of Edgar being in the downstairs area of the house. Of course, that didn't mean that he couldn't be just upstairs or in the yard. Shawn would still have to be extremely careful, or as Gus would say 'be a jackal', in order to avoid Edgar.

He used the putty knife that he had found to jimmy the lock the same way that a person would use a credit card. He heard the lock click and stowed the putty knife in his pocket alongside the hammer. Shawn clasped the door knob and turned. He flinched slightly when the door creaked as he pushed it open.

There wasn't any sign of Edgar as he crept through the kitchen of the house and then through the front hallway. Shawn could see the front door and quickly shuffled towards it. The pain in his ribs was nearly forgotten as the hope for freedom that he felt at seeing the door surged through him.

He had his hand on the door handle when he heard a creak behind him. Shawn quickly turned around and his stomach dropped. Standing about twenty feet away from him was Edgar.

"Where do you think you're going Shawn?"

**OOooOOooOO**

Juliet and Tom had stayed up the whole night going over whatever they could think of about Shawn's disappearance.

Tom had told Juliet about Shawn's job at the bar and about what they did when they hung out.

Juliet relayed the information she had gotten from the local police department earlier in the day. The Guadalupe police department had called her that morning letting her know that a bike matching the one Shawn drove was found, abandoned, in an industrial park just outside the city. The plates had been removed and all identifying markers had been scratched off. Therefore, they couldn't confirm that it was Shawn's bike but the description was enough for Juliet.

They had compiled a list of possible suspects. Most of them were names of people that Shawn had provided evidence against in Santa Barbara and their families. Tom couldn't think of anybody in Guadalupe that would want to hurt Shawn.

They were getting frustrated. A majority of the people on their list were still in prison and the few that were out all had alibis. There were no leads as to who had Shawn or where he was.

Juliet felt overwhelmed. She needed Lassiter there to help her or at least support her. Juliet knew that Shawn was still holding an irrational grudge against the senior detective and wouldn't want him around but she was done caring. If it meant that she would get Shawn back, she would call Lassiter. Hell, she would call in the National Guard if that would lead to Shawn's rescue.

She convinced Tom that they needed help and stepped into Shawn's bedroom to make the call. Lassiter didn't pick up and the call went to voicemail. She was about to leave a message when she heard a crash in the front room.

Juliet pulled her gun from the holster and threw open the bedroom door.

She was, needless to say, shocked when she saw Shawn lying on the floor aside a few of the dining room chairs he had obviously knocked over on his way down. She rushed to his side and when his eyes met hers all she could manage was:

"What the hell happened to you?"


	14. Chapter 14

Yay a new chapter in less than a month! Go me!

So I think this may be the last chapter. Actually I know this is the last chapter. However, there might be a cute little epilogue if people want one.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Buzz stood outside a small cottage style home. The yellow paint the home was covered in was starting to peel up from the sides a bit and the landscaping could use some work, but other than that this house looked like a cozy little place a young new family could have been happy in.

Pulling into the driveway in his police cruiser, Buzz would have never guessed that this was where SBPD's head psychic consultant was held and tortured in for over a week.

He had been surprised when he got the call to go and investigate this residence. Not only was this house out of the Santa Barbara's jurisdiction but there also wasn't an official crime reported at this scene. After he found out that Detective O'Hara was the officer that requested his assistance he gave her a call.

Apparently, Juliet had found Shawn, or more aptly, they had crashed into each other. Buzz didn't even know that Shawn had been missing. Well, he knew that Shawn had disappeared from Santa Barbara but he had had no clue that he had gone missing from the place he had gone missing to.

Juliet had told him that Shawn was badly hurt and that he had lost consciousness fairly soon after he had shown up at his apartment.

All Shawn had managed to say was, "Your brother's an ass."

Juliet had mentioned that he had looked at this guy Tom Watson when he had said that. That had been the reason that Detective O'Hara had called him. She wanted him to investigate the brother, Edgar Watson's, residence and perhaps question him to find out what the hell Shawn was talking about.

Buzz exited his patrol car and walked up the front path to the door. As trained, he stood slightly to the side of the door and kept his hand hovering over his gun as he knocked on the door. No one answered. Buzz tried again and this time added in a "Mr. Watson it's the police, open the door!" for good measure. Still no one answered.

He stepped off the front porch and went to the window that was a few feet to his left. He peered in and was shocked when he saw a man lying on the ground with blood pooled around his head.

Buzz made a quick call in for back up and then proceeded to enter the front door, which was unlocked. With his gun drawn, he did a quick check of the front few rooms of the house before kneeling down next to the man. Buzz quickly noted the bloody hammer that was located just a foot or two away. His fingers made a search for a pulse but came up empty.

Mr. Edgar Watson was dead.

**OOooOOooOO**

Juliet had called an ambulance when Shawn had lost after crashing into the table and making his simple statement.

Tom had looked befuddled until realization dawned on him.

"He was talking about Edgar," Tom said more to himself than to anybody else.

"What?" Juliet asked in confusion.

"My brother's name is Edgar. Shawn was talking about my brother, Edgar." Tom's voice was getting louder and quicker as he spoke. "I knew he was an ass but I never thought he would do anything like this. Sure he can be a jerk and all, but physical violence? I mean I guess I can see it," Tom ranted.

"But why would he do this?" Juliet questioned motioning to Shawn's bruised and bloody body.

"I always thought he might be into something was less than legal. He must have gotten spooked when Shawn came to work at the bar. After all, Shawn was always telling stories about how he was the head psychic detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department. Damn it Edgar!"

Juliet could hear sirens in the distance. "I'm going to have someone check in on Edgar as soon as we get Shawn to the hospital. I lost him once I can't lose him again." Juliet said as she ran her hand through Shawn's hair in what she hoped was a soothing motion.

Tom got up and left the apartment in order to guide the paramedics to the right location.

When they were alone, Juliet leaned down until her mouth was level with Shawn's ear.

"You better be alright mister. You will not leave me again. Got it?" she whispered, hoping that Shawn could hear her. "I love you."

The paramedics rushed in and Juliet was quickly pushed to the side. The medics made a quick and efficient assessment of their patient before loading him onto a stretcher.

As they were heading to the ambulance Juliet announced that she would be accompanying them in the ambulance and that Tom should follow behind in his car.

The ride to the hospital took about fifteen minutes and in that time Shawn condition quickly deteriorated. He was having trouble breathing and was starting to become shocky.

The paramedics had mentioned that Shawn most likely had broken ribs and that when he had crashed into the table they may have shifted which might have led to a punctured lung. Furthermore, they said that all of the bruises that covered Shawn's torso might indicate internal bleeding. All of these, could cause death and Juliet was immensely relieved when the ambulance arrived at the Emergency ambulance dock of the hospital.

Doctors and nurses were already waiting outside for the ambulance's arrival. There was a flurry of white coats and green scrubs as Shawn was hurried inside the hospital and into a trauma room. Juliet was denied entry and could only watch from through a window in the door as Shawn was hooked up to machines and poked and prodded with instruments. She was caught up in concentration of Shawn's care that she didn't notice Tom walk up beside her.

"Let's go to the waiting room. We are just going to be in the way here."

'I'm not going…" as if proving Tom's point, Juliet's comment was cut short as a nurse came bustling out the door which nearly slammed into both of the concerned friends. The nurse continued down the hallway at a near run until she found the instrument she was looking for in a nearby cart and returned to Shawn's room, once again nearly crashing into Juliet.

"Are you sure they'll find us if we go to the waiting room?"

"It'll be the first place they look. I promise," Tom said as he put a hand on Juliet's shoulder and guided her to a hard and uncomfortable chair in the waiting room.

When she calmed down a bit, Juliet called into dispatch requesting that Officer McNabb investigate Edgar Watson's residence. And then a few minutes later she fielded a call from the confused officer asking what was going on.

After that, Juliet made a call that she would have given anything not to have to make.

"Hello?" a gruff male voice answered on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Spencer, it's Detective O'Hara."

"We've been over this, please call me Henry."

"I'm sorry, _Henry_. This is Juliet. I found Shawn."

"What?" screamed the phone. Juliet pulled the device farther from her ear. She cleared her throat and relayed the past few days' events to the clearly distraught father.

When she was done, silence greeted her on the other end of the phone line.

"Henry?"

"I'm coming to the hospital right now!" he yelled and there was a click as Henry slammed his phone back into the cradle.

The call to the office to inform the Chief of Shawn's condition wasn't as bad but she was still yelled at for not informing any one of her extracurricular investigating. She was informed that the Chief and Detective Lassiter were also going to be leaving for the hospital.

With everyone informed all Juliet had to do was wait.

Henry was the first to arrive. He saw Juliet as he entered the emergency ward of the hospital and walked quickly over to her. At first he looked as though he was going to start yelling at her but after he saw the worry on her face, he seemed to think twice about his choice. Instead he sighed and sat down in the chair beside her.

A few minutes later Chief Vick and Detective Lassiter arrived. Her partner seemed not to the concern that was overwhelming Juliet as he laid into her.

"What the hell, O'Hara?" he yelled. "You can't just take off and go investigating all by yourself. Obviously the situation Spencer found himself in was dangerous. It wasn't safe! And speaking of Spencer, we were all looking for him and when you finally get a lead you don't share that information with anyone?"

"I'm sorry. I just, I just…" Juliet stammered. Usually she would have been able to fend off Lassiter's irrational anger at being left out of the loop, but she was worried and exhausted. Instead of actually answering his questions, she slid back into her chair and put her head in her hands.

Lassiter quickly realized his mistake and sat down next to his partner.

"I'm sorry. Spencer's going to be ok," Lassiter said in the voice he usually reserved for victims' families.

At his words, a doctor entered the waiting room. The doctor called for the family of Shawn Spencer and looked like a deer in the head lights as the entire group ran towards him.

"Calm down everyone. Please, calm down," the doctor pleaded as he was bombarded with questions.

When the questions quieted down, the doctor continued.

"Let me start by saying that we have rushed Mr. Spencer up to emergency surgery. He had several injuries that have caused us concern. These injuries include three broken ribs, one of which shifted and punctured the lung. We managed to stabilize that injury before the lung collapsed. However, another rib also moved and lacerated the spleen. This caused internal bleeding and his spleen will most likely have to be removed, but the surgeon will make the final decision on that. Furthermore, it looks as though Mr. Spencer has been in a scuffle lately and his torso is covered in bruises. Some of these bruises looked serious so we performed an ultrasound. Unfortunately, the ultrasound showed more internal bleeding so the surgeon will have to determine the source and fix it. It's going to be touch and go for a while."

Everyone was shocked into silence. No one had been prepared for Shawn to be in such a desperate state. Even Juliet who had been with him in the ambulance when he had started having issues was surprised.

Shawn was the epitome of life. He had the energy of a twelve year old and was always moving around. He was curious by nature and extremely outgoing. The thought of Shawn having to fight for his life made Juliet's stomach drop. She couldn't begin to think of a world without Shawn in it.

"If you have any questions please feel free to go to the desk and ask them to page me," the doctor said. He shook everyone's hand and left.

The group made their way back to the chairs they had claimed too somber to even speak.

It wasn't until the Chief's cell phone rang that the group was broken out of their silence. The Chief stepped away to take the call. When she came back her expression had gone from sadness to anger.

"Officer McNabb believes that he found the place where Shawn was being held. McNabb believes that Shawn was being held prisoner in the basement and that was where he sustained all of his injuries. It looks as though Shawn escaped sometime yesterday," Chief Vick announced to everyone.

"How could you tell when he escaped?" Lassiter asked.

"Because that's how long the body in the house has been dead."

"Wait, what do you mean 'that's how long the body has been dead'?" Henry questioned. "Whose body is that?'"

"Edgar," Tom whispered under his breath. He had been so quiet that no one had really noticed that he was there. However, with his comment all eyes turned to him.

"Who is Edgar?" Henry growled.

"He is. I mean he _was_ my brother. Before Shawn went unconscious he mentioned that my brother was an ass. That's the whole reason Juliet called to get someone to investigate his house. I was really hoping that Shawn was just confused or something," Tom replied. "I need to get out of here for a little while, take a walk or something. Juliet can you call me if there's any news about Shawn?"

When Juliet nodded, Tom shrugged on his leather jacket and left the hospital.

"Who was that guy? Why is he even here?" Lassiter asked accusingly.

Juliet, however, was quick to defend the man that had helped her find Shawn.

"He's Shawn's friend. He's the one that called me when Shawn went missing. He told me where to look for his brother when Shawn gave him the clue. He wouldn't do anything to hurt Shawn."

The Chief saw the fight that was coming between her two detectives and tried to stop it before it could get worse.

"The only major injury that Watson showed was a blow to the head. We believe that it will be shown that a bloody hammer which was found near the body was the cause of the injury and led to his death. It looks like Shawn fought his way out and then walked all the way back to his apartment."

Shawn's escape shocked his friends. None of them would have ever considered the notion that Shawn would have been able to escape from a situation using physical force. Sure, they could see him charming his way out of a situation but never fighting. Shawn once again surprised them all.

It was the surgeon that surprised them next. He cleared his throat which grabbed the attention of his friends and family.

"The surgery is over and Mr. Spencer pulled through remarkably. I've really never seen anything like him. That's not to say that his surgery was a cakewalk, however. We did have to remove his spleen which means he will be more prone to infections in the future and if he does get sick he has to go to the doctors. There was also some internal bleeding coming from the liver but we were able to patch that up and he shouldn't have any lasting issues with that. We shifted his ribs back to their natural position and they will now be able to heal on their own.

The remarkable part about this whole thing is that we just got him out of surgery and he's already awake. With the amount of anesthesia we gave him he should have been out for the next few hours. It's amazing that he's already awake and talking. However, he does keep talking about pineapple. His chart didn't say anything about head trauma, but maybe I should look into that."

Juliet laughed. "No. No, don't worry about head trauma. He has this weird obsession with pineapple. It's completely normal. Well maybe not normal but it's Shawn." She couldn't stop smiling. Shawn was going to be alright and not just in the physical sense. The Shawn that had left Santa Barbara a few months ago had been too depressed to talk about his favorite fruit but this Shawn was healed or at least healing. She couldn't wait to see her boyfriend.

"Can we see him?" she blurted out.

"Of course, but only one person at a time for now though. I do ask if he has managed to fall back asleep or is about to fall asleep let him. His mind might not think so but his body needs rest. I'll take back who ever is first up."

There was a quick glance between Henry and Juliet.

"You can go first Juliet. You are the one who found him," Henry acquiesced.

"Thanks."

Juliet followed as the surgeon led her back to the room where her boyfriend was recovering from life saving surgery. She heard him before she saw him.

"So as I was telling you Nurse Anna, if you want to properly make a pineapple upside down cake in an easy bake oven…"

He stopped speaking when he heard the knock on the door.

"Juliet!" he exclaimed when he saw her standing in the door way. His face displayed his charming mega-watt smile and in what seemed like forever, the smile actually managed to reach his eyes.

Juliet nearly ran the ten steps it took to get from the doorway to his bed. Before Shawn could say another word she planted her lips on top of his in what was a desperate kiss. However, as quick as it started it ended when she punched him in the shoulder.

"Don't you ever do that again Shawn Spencer. You will not leave again without telling me. And for that matter you will not leave again at all. You had us worried sick. Your father was a mess, I was lost, and even Lassiter was upset. You are staying in Santa Barbara for the rest of your life or you are taking me with you. Got it?" Juliet yelled.

"First off, let me say 'ouchie.' There are many little stupid cuts all over my arms so no more punching please." Juliet immediately regretted punching Shawn.

"Second off, I'm never leaving you again. A great man slash hallucination told me I had to stop running from my problems and move on with my life."

"Hallucination?" Juliet asked.

"That's a story for another time," Shawn shrugged. "I love you, Miss Detective Juliet O'Hara. You are never getting rid of me."

Shawn let out a yawn and was clearly getting tired. His voice had started to become sluggish and his words had started to slur.

Juliet buried her head in the nook between Shawn's head and shoulder. She held him close as his breathing started to slowly even out.

Right before he fell asleep Shawn muttered, "never leaving you again." And with that Shawn was asleep.

Shawn was back both mentally and physically. Their lives may never be the same without Gus but for the first time in a while Juliet had hope that they would get to a point in which the pain may just be a dull ache and happiness would prevail.

With that hope, she found peace. Juliet finally allowed her exhaustion to consume her and she fell asleep with the man she loved safely in her arms.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this story!

As this may be the last time I talk to you all for this fic I would like to thank everyone who reviewed and added this to favorites/alerts. It always made my day when I got an email letting me know someone gave me feedback. I would also like to thank all those lurkers who silently read in the background. It's cool to track how many people read each chapter :)

I have a new story planned. It will be a Tony whump-athon NCIS story. So If you love that story you should check it out. It should be posted in the upcoming months (fingers crossed!)

So let me know what you thought about this chapter/the whole story and if you would like to see an epilogue.

Have a good summer!


	15. Epilogue

By popular demand of two an epilogue has been added. As warned it is short and hopefully cute.

Also I noticed that I had asked earlier if anybody recognized the character that Tom's appearance (and semi-backstory) was based upon. I realized that I never answered the question. Silly me! Anyway, if you still care, I based the character of Tom on Dean Winchester from Supernatural (dirty blonde hair, leather jacket, father in the special forces of the army, etc.)

Rambling over and on to the epilogue... ENJOY!

* * *

**Time of Dying**

**Epilogue**

**4 Months Later**

Shawn softly closed the door after he had hoisted himself out of the car. He walked slowly through the plush green grass that surrounded him. He noted that Juliet remained a few steps behind him giving him the space that he didn't necessarily want but knew he needed.

Shawn scanned the area around him as he walked until his eyes focused on what he had been looking for. He had been here once before but that seemed like a lifetime ago. If it hadn't been for his super memory he wasn't sure he would have been able to get back.

He took a few more steps forward until he was within a foot or two of a large carved tombstone. Juliet stopped walking a few steps behind Shawn.

"Hey buddy," Shawn addressed the stone. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to come visit."

He received no answer. Not that he had been expecting any; he was talking to his friend's grave after all. But after the episode of 'hallucination Gus' during his imprisonment he couldn't help but hope that his friend would make a surprise appearance.

When Gus didn't show up, Shawn continued.

"You see, I was in the hospital for a while," he explained. "And then when I got out I was still kind of messed up."

His explanation was a slight under exaggeration though. In fact, Shawn had been in the hospital close to three weeks. The cuts on his arms had become infected and he had come down with a dangerously high fever. Shawn had to have been put on intravenous antibiotics in order to combat the infection and even with that help it took a while for the invading bacteria to be defeated.

With the complication from the infection on his arms, it had taken Shawn longer than normal to recuperate from the surgery that saved him from internal bleeding.

Eventually, Shawn had been released from the hospital much to his and the hospital's staff's delight. The lack of Jell-o flavor selection had annoyed Shawn and his constant pleading for anything pineapple flavored had annoyed his caretakers.

Although being released from the hospital wasn't all it was cracked up to be either. He was sent to Henry's house. He was monitored like a small child in a room full of electrical outlets and pointy little metal objects.

His dad forced him to rest, take his medication, and worst-of-all eat healthy food. Needless to say, Shawn got out of there as soon as possible.

He eventually talked his dad into letting him go live with Juliet as he continued to recover. By that time his incisions from surgery had healed, the cuts on his arms had all healed over with only scars remaining, and his broken ribs only presented him with a dull ache when he moved after forgetting that they were still healing.

Living with Juliet had been much better. She had still made him rest and eat well but she had made it fun and gave him rewards when he did what she wanted. Although, these were not the types of rewards he would have wanted from his dad anyway. Ew.

Anyway, he had eventually gotten better.

"Then, I had to go to all these annoying meetings with the Chief and Lassifrass," Shawn continued. "Lassie was always yelling at me and everything for leaving. Told ya he cared!" Shawn gloated.

He had indeed had to attend several meetings with Chief Vick and Detective Lassiter. He had to account for his time away, and then his imprisonment, and then his escape.

He had told them about his time at the bar with some slight embellishments about his adoring fans.

He had also told him about the time he spent in the basement of Hell. Shawn told them all about all the horrible things that Edgar had done to him. He included the drug that he had been given but neglected to tell them about the hallucination he had had of Gus. The only person he had told that to was Jules.

Shawn had then moved on to his escape. He told them about how he had gotten out of the ropes and how he managed to escape the basement. He had some difficulties as he explained how Edgar had surprised him and how during their fight he had used the hammer he had taken from the basement to hit the other man in the head and kill him.

The meetings at the station had been emotionally taxing and usually left Shawn exhausted.

It had taken almost four months for Shawn to start feeling anything close to normal. Eventually, though, with Juliet, his dad, and all of the people back at the station he started to feel like himself again. It was then that Shawn had decided to take the journey to visit his friend's grave.

"I remember what you told me Gus. Even though that wasn't technically you, it was hallucination you. I still remember," Shawn said somberly.

Juliet, noticing the shift in her boyfriend's demeanor, stepped forward and laced her fingers with his and gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze. With her by his side, Shawn continued.

"I've tried to move one. It's hard sometimes but I have tried. You can ask Jules, if you don't believe me. In fact I even opened Psych back up. I only take a few, really easy cases, at a time for now but I think in a few weeks I might start working at cases for the police again. It definitely won't be the same without you, but I think this is something I need to do."

Shawn cleared his throat. He had come and said what he needed to say. It had been difficult to reopen his psychic detective agent without Gus by his side. Now that he had told Gus he felt better. He felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest.

"We have to get going, buddy, Jules cavorted with my mom and signed us up for this totally girly pottery class," Juliet elbowed Shawn in his side, "I mean totally awesome pottery class and our first session is tonight. Apparently it's supposed to be good for me to focus on things that aren't completely depressing or something like that so my mom says. But who really trusts what psychologists say anyway. I think she really just wants me and Jules to hang out more, so that we'll get married sooner, and start popping out little Spencer grandchildren," Shawn laughed along with Juliet.

"But don't worry dude, I'll totally make a sculpture of a pineapple in your honor."

Shawn could practically hear the "You know that's right" that would normally accompany his statement.

Before turning to leave, Shawn stretched out his hand that was not currently being held by his girlfriend. He tightened it into a fist and gave the tombstone a light fist bump.

"See ya later Gus."

With that, Shawn turned and hand-in-hand with Jules, he walked into the ever-so-cliché sunset.

* * *

I am a total sap for happy endings. I couldn't stop myself :)


End file.
